Paper Flowers
by WesLess
Summary: Cordelia's day goes from bad to worse. Angel gets ick on her, something follows them home, and then these kids show up, ruining her mascara. And as if that wasn't enough, she gets dumped in the basement. Sigh. COMPLETE
1. They helped the hopeless

Disclaimer: _Angel_ and all of the characters used here are not mine, and I make no profit from this venture. I'm just borrowing them 'cause I think they're great, so feel flattered and don't sue me. I promise I'll put them back in their box when I'm done. 

Feedback: Please review and tell me what you think, I crave your opinions! If you have ideas you might want to see added then let me know and I'll see what I can do. This is my second fic, so although I've had practice, I'm still just a novice, so be kind. 

Setting: This is set at the end of season two again, just like the last one. You may be thinking 'hey, what are you, stuck in the past?' but I don't care. I like it here, it's nice, and I'm not going to change, so there. * Pulls out tongue * Also, people are more fun to write, especially Cordelia. To me, season three equals mucho badness, and I don't even wanna go there just yet. (Also, Fred annoys me, poor Wes. I'm not jealous…I'm not!)

Note: Before you ask, Buffy and co. will not be appearing in this fic 'cause I wouldn't be able to do them justice. I don't watch _Vampire Slayer _too much and I certainly don't know what was happening at around the time this is set. Sorry, but it's just tough. Other than that, anything goes. OK, I'll stop my rant and present, to you, the reader, my story…enjoy! :)

CHAPTER 1.

The shadows were oppressive, closing in on all sides and suffocating in their density. Thick clouds of disturbed dust clung to the air like blankets, smothering all who passed beneath and concealing entities with hearts that were blacker than the emptiness that surrounded them. The grime and the darkness were the least of anyone's problems, in this case, each struggling to stay one step ahead of the hidden enemy that bombarded them with lethal intent.

Clashes of metal rang through the night; somewhat softened in intensity as the journey up through the cavernous hole and out into the empty warehouse robbed the sounds of their clarity. Is a noise still a noise if no living being is present to hear it? Not a single person, stray dog or rat was within hearing distance by that time, and the battle raged on beneath the abandoned industrial estate whilst the world went on above, unconcerned and oblivious.

But that was how they liked it. It meant less people to get in the way, and less people to get hurt. And as for the awkward explanations afterwards and the added possibility of press attention, well, sometimes it was just best to let the population of Los Angeles go on unknowing. After all, ignorance is bliss.

The only down side to that particular commendable policy was that there was also no one around to hear you scream, and no one to notice when you didn't come back. If things went horribly wrong, no one would come to rescue you, and no one would cry for your death. In this line of work, the dangers were accepted, but all too real, nonetheless. The fighters had come to rely only on each other and, as each knew all too well, there would be few in the outside world to miss them in their passing. This was the only family they knew, a collection of misfits and outsiders, brought together by circumstance and the drive to do good. They helped the hopeless, and they were proud.

Longing for a lungful of the crisp air waiting above, Cordelia took another swing at the shadows with her sword, recoiling from the wet splash of blood that plastered itself to her face in return. There was a satisfying thud as a hefty lump of a body hit the dirt, and she tossed her hair back over her shoulder in triumph.

"Ha, got you that time." 

Her victory was short lived, as she suspected it would be, and yet another replacement emerged from nowhere to take it's fallen comrade's place.

"You guys just don't give up, do you?" she asked, knowing she would get nothing but a guttural snarl in reply. They weren't really ones for talking, what with the snouts and the tusks for teeth.

The flurry of activity in the small, enclosed space was hard to discern, even at such close quarters. The only indication of movement was the occasional flash of a razor-like weapon edge, catching a rare ray of light, and the constant flow of scuffles and grunts that accompanied the fighting. And then, of course, there was the stench of death. 

The smell of blood and sweat was hard to miss, even for the humans, but Angel's vampire senses were sharp enough to pick up every gruesome detail. Added to the general haze of demon scent, he could isolate the poignant smell of human blood in the mix, and to which of his wounded friends it belonged. Perhaps once, he would have worried about the fact that he could smell injuries, and to a certain extent, he still did, obviously. But he trusted each one enough to know that they could handle themselves, and as cuts and scrapes were inevitable, he didn't let it get to him. He had to focus.

Taking down another of his adversaries with an efficient slash of his dagger, he could be afforded the time to take a quick glance at the situation, using his acute night vision to his advantage. It looked like he was right. He smiled grimly at the piles of fallen bodies lying at the feet of his three counterparts, almost proud in a sort of fatherly way that they didn't seem to need his help. Gunn successfully felled two demons at once, hacking through them with a slice of his axe. Wesley and Cordelia stood back to back; making a pretty formidable pair as they chopped and stabbed at the creatures they probably couldn't even see.

Thankfully for his weary limbs, it looked to Angel as though they were finally coming to the end of the demon hoard at last, their numbers falling dramatically. Luckily for the demon hunters, this breed was not particularly fearsome, or else the sheer numbers may have presented them with a bigger problem. As it was, it was nothing they couldn't handle, what with their ever-growing experience and expertise. And everyone would be able to pay their rent this month, which was always a big plus.

Another demon crawled from a crevice to the side, and Angel made fast work of it to ensure it didn't get the chance to escape. He realised with disappointment that the job might not be finished as soon as he had hoped, as this newly excavated cave system had too many places for the odd demon or two to hide. They would have to make a last sweep of the place before they left to make sure none had been missed, and in an area this big, that could take some time. 

"Jeez Gunn, why'd you have to bring that thing with you, anyway? It's hardly the best weapon to have around when we're all crammed in here. You, like, totally nearly took off my kneecap just now. Be more careful!"

Gunn shrugged apologetically in the direction of The Cordelia Voice, hugging his axe to him defensively. 

"Sorry", he said, "You know I can't leave home without it. It's my baby." He couldn't see Cordelia's face, or her body, for that matter, but he was sure that she would be scowling at him round about now.

Angel kicked his freshly killed demon over onto it's front, and was satisfied that it was completely dead. Looking round at the others, he felt relief wash over him to find that all the foes had been vanquished, and everyone was still in tact. Chalk one point up for the Angel Investigations crew.

Wesley safely stowed his own weapon at his side, anxious not to accidentally stab anyone in the dark, and then tried, with little success, to pick off the various demon entrails adorning his jacket. Wrinkling his nose in disgust and then giving up, he moved carefully around to where Angel was standing, feeling for the sides of the cave and stepping over the litter of bodies as best he could.

"Um, Angel, I don't suppose you could help us out and find the flash lights, could you? We seemed to have dropped them during the fight. As appealing as it sounds, I really don't fancy feeling around amongst severed limbs in the dark." 

"I hear ya", Cordelia agreed, cringing when something squelched under her shoe. She didn't even want to _think _about what that might have been.

A second later, an only slightly slippery flashlight was pushed into her hands and she turned it on immediately, swinging the beam round to check on her friends and nearly blinding Wesley in the process. 

"Opps. Sorry", she said when he squinted, bringing an arm up to shield his dazzled eyes. 

A sharp cry eliminated the chance for a reprimand, and everyone spun to direct a little light at Gunn, finding him grimacing in pain and clutching his foot, leaning a hand against the wall for support.

"Ah", Cordelia said knowingly, "the horrors of a stubbed toe."

Gunn nodded enthusiastically, biting his lip and screwing up his eyes. 

"Why is it that the little things always hurt the most? You know, like how paper cuts are way worse than the proper ones? And when you get something in your eye…" She paused to see the guys staring at her and finished the thought with a soundless 'never mind'. 

"Right…yes, well, anyway, I think we'd better spread out and check the rest of the cave before we call this a night. There could be more demons hidden about down here." Wesley shone a beam around the small chamber they were currently in and found a couple of passageways leading off, as well as the route they had taken to get down here in the first place. "Cordelia, do you want to go with Angel down that way and me and Gunn take this one?"

"Sure", Cordy agreed, skipping in and out of the obstacles like a hopscotch. Anxious to get back home to a nice inviting bath courtesy of her friendly household ghost, she pushed past Angel and led the way without giving him the chance to assume his 'protector' position.

They were out of sight in moments, and only the echoes of their footsteps told of their presence. Wesley turned to Gunn and motioned ahead.

"Shall we?" he asked.

"Let's go" was his answer, and Gunn, putting on an exaggerated limp, plunged straight into the shadows without a second thought, shining his flashlight ahead of them.

The passageway was tight and winding, and in places, the two tall men had to duck and crouch to get through. Its demon residents had physically gouged the crude pathway out of the rock, the claw marks still visible on the sides. For this particular mission, it hadn't been hard to find the warehouse in question, as it seemed that these demons had little imagination, simply using the abandoned lot outside to dump the rubble.

As underground caverns went, this one was pretty cosy, with none of the wall slime and dripping dampness that was usually associated with such places. The excavation was fairly new, and Wesley attributed its dryness to the fact that ground moisture hadn't had the time to seep in just yet. Nevertheless, the air got stuffier as they descended deeper into the earth, and he soon found himself loosening the collar of his shirt in the heat. 

After an eternity of trudging along, they came to a fork in the road, the passageway branching off into two separate directions. A pleasant draft flowed past as the air was sucked from behind them and whipped round into the new spaces.

"Can you feel that?" Wesley asked, and Gunn nodded in response. "I think these join up at some point further down. Let's split up and meet in the middle."

"No problem", Gunn answered, choosing the left hand tunnel and disappearing into the depths.

Wesley peered down the remaining passage but couldn't see much, the bends and jagged outcrops obscuring the way and reflecting the light of his torch. This part seemed to have been dug in a hurry and didn't look as well used as the rest of the system. There were no rounded edges and smooth walls, so he had to be especially careful not slice his head open on the regularly jutting out rocks.

Squeezing around a particularly tight bend, he froze when he heard movement ahead. A high-pitched squeal resounded along the passageway, followed by grunting and snarling. No prizes for guessing what was down there, then.

Directing the flash light beam at the floor so as not to give away his approach too soon, Wesley crept round the final boulder only to emerge into a substantially sized chamber, the ceiling of which must have been high enough to allow someone twice Wesley's size to walk in unhindered. It was only on closer inspection that Wesley realised just how different this room was from the rest of the cave. Imbedded in the walls was the occasional brick, and he could just make out what looked like pillars holding up the roof. To his eyes, it looked like this room had been built rather than dug, and the patterns on the brickwork led him to believe it was a much more ancient in origin. 

The light from his torch started to flicker slightly, and Wesley shook it sharply in protest.

"Damn. Don't do this to me now", he whispered to himself, smacking the wretched thing with the heel of his hand.

The beam spluttered some more and then began to fade, the last of the light dying pathetically. Wesley inwardly cursed the cheap batteries and tucked it away under his jacket, hoping that Gunn wouldn't be too long in finding him. The blackness made him nervous.

To his surprise, he found that his eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, despite the absence of any light from the entrance of the cave hundreds of metres up. Squinting into the dimness, he could make out a very fine shaft of slivery light filtering in from a crack in the ceiling on the other side of the room. He realised that the air tasted fresher down here and assumed that the tiny hole must eventually reach up to the surface.

Another movement made him whirl round, bringing up his sword for protection. Desperately searching the emptiness in front of him, he caught sight of what looked like a shift in the shadows as something made up of a more dense shade of black moved. 

Wesley waited, willing his weak eyes to focus faster. After several tense seconds, he realised that the demon he had heard before wasn't paying any attention to him, but in fact had its back to him, obviously not having noticed his presence. All of the concentration its small brain capacity allowed it was focused on something by the wall, and it chattered to itself, snorting and hissing in curiosity. There was another squeal, and the demon seemed to become angry, raising its arm to strike.

Not wanting to waste the chance and have that fury directed at him, Wesley lunged forward, thrusting the sword through the demon's flesh. It gave the characteristic howl and then collapsed dead, just as the rest of its brethren had done. 

Hefting his sword out of the dead corpse, Wesley heard a squeak in front of him, and the object of the demon's attention also moved. He took a step back as the tiny animal skittered past, running through a ray of light long enough for Wesley to spy its white and ginger colouring. The brief glimpse dispelled the feeling of disquiet that had fallen, and he all but dismissed it as harmless. Curiosity almost getting the better of him, Wesley was about to make after it to find out what it was when he heard footsteps approach. 

He looked round in the direction of the noise to see what looked like another entrance to a passageway coming from roughly the same direction as Gunn had headed and was relieved to see torchlight glowing gradually brighter. When he looked back again, the creature was gone.

Sure enough, Gunn emerged, axe and all, a fresh coating of demon blood trickling down his face.

"I found one", he announced, clearly pleased with his discovery. Almost tripping on something on the floor, he stopped and looked down at the offending object. "Looks like you got one too."

He nudged the demon over with his foot and whistled. 

"Big one, ain't it?" he asked, frowning at Wesley when he didn't get a response. "What's up, man? What'd you see?"

Wesley snapped his attention back to his friend and shook away his thoughts.

"Nothing, just a cat or something, that's all. We should get back and find the others."

Gunn nodded his consent and led the way, using his still working flashlight to illuminate the way. Wesley took one last look and the chamber behind him before following into the shadows.

As they came to the next room, Cordelia's voice floated towards them down the tunnel. Wesley and Gunn looked at each other, well acquainted with that tone, and steeled themselves for the meeting.

"What do you mean you didn't see it? You are such a bad liar. You totally did that on purpose. How would you like it if I got some of this stuff in _your _hair, huh, mister product user?"

Wesley and Gunn approached to find Cordelia running her fingers through her hair with her 'eew' face on. Angel looked like he was having a hard time concealing one of those rare smiles he got from time to time. Cordelia spotted them immediately and grabbed Wesley's arm.

"Wesley, tell him. He so got demon ick on me as some kind of sick joke. And what's with these demons, anyway? They're, like, extra gooey or something. Just look what it's done to my top. It's ruined! And Angel just made it worse. Tell him!" She punctuated the last few words with a harsh arm shaking, expecting it to produce the desired response from its owner.

Wesley blinked at her, and then looked up at Angel, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to say.

"I…um…" 

"Oh, that is so typical", Cordelia groaned, pushing his arm away. "You always stick up for him, but what about me? He's the bad guy here, so tell him off already!"

"Look, Cordelia, I don't know what it is you think I should do, but I don't think you need me to fight your battles for you."

"Yeah, right, 'cause you'd be the last person I'd ask."

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" he demanded on the defensive, the pair of them falling into their old bickering habit.

"Children…" Angel chided, stepping in before the situation could escalate. He pushed them both towards the exit, positioning Gunn in between them both just in case. 

They continued sniping all the way back to the surface, with Gunn and Angel doing their best to keep them moving along instead of stopping to face one another. Gunn kept on rolling his eyes and tutting and Angel gave the occasional sigh, wondering how it was that they still had the energy for it. All he wanted to do was get back and roll into bed, not have to play referee to the most wearying match of insult throwing and name calling imaginable. It was like both of them degenerated into five year olds every time they'd had a hard day, each grating on the other's nerves when they were stressed or tired. 

Angel guessed they used the routine as some kind of comfort thing, and supposed that neither of them had done that badly out of it. It was harmless enough, and their relationship only ever got stronger as time went on, so he let them indulge themselves. They managed to make it back to the warehouse without incident, and they were all so relieved to be free of the confining space below that the pair of them forgot their argument and fell silent. 

As they made their way back to the car, Wesley and Cordelia started to pick demon flesh off of one another in the light of the streetlamps, and Angel couldn't help but smile. It was like a silent make up, their way of saying 'I love you really' without having to utter the L word. That, and he was glad that there would be less mess to clean out of his car later.

The group wandered through the empty lot, a welcome breeze stirring through the overgrown weeds poking up through the concrete. They made their way round the stacks of old wooden crates and old chemical drums to the abandoned van, stripped by vandals, that marked the hole they had made in the chain link fence. 

As they crawled through one by one to reach the parked convertible on the other side, a small set of twinkling eyes watched them from a hiding place in the shadows. They followed each member with interest, finally coming to rest on the vehicle with which they would make their escape. 

Nobody heard the pitter-patter of little feet as they sat, patiently waiting for Angel to start the car. The eyes and the creature that owned them crept silently around to the back of the car, unnoticed by its passengers. 

The battle weary members of Angel Investigations set off down the street towards the Hyperion hotel, each yearning for the comforts that would await them when they got home, but completely unaware that they had a tiny stowaway clinging to the underside of the trunk.

To be continued…  


	2. Introductory greeting

Disclaimer: Only the creature belongs to me, _Angel _and all of the characters I use from it do not. But I'm guessing you knew that already. So don't sue me…please?

Feedback: Glad to see some more of you are missing the old days, Phoenix*Moon and Eloise, I certainly preferred it when things were a lot less complicated…not that I'm complaining. Keep your reviews coming, I like to see your opinions and any suggestions you might have for the story. And don't worry all you angst fans out there, it won't stay mega fluffy for long. Does it ever? 

Note: Special thanks to FerretGirl for enduring my writing yet again in this second story, and to Tariq for all the nice things you said! Here's the next part, sorry it took so long. Enjoy! :)

CHAPTER 2.

The lobby doors eased open with a sigh, the old hotel welcoming the return of the exhausted warriors in its own reassuring way. The way the space echoed as they entered gave the impression that they were sorely missed, their absence leaving only an empty, joyless void that no other sounds would fill.

The contemporary building had seen many people pass through its doors, and endured the changes that decades of existence had wreaked upon it. But, despite the years, never before had a single group of people brought such familiar warmth and vibrant life to the old place, even when it was the buzzing centre of activity at the peak of the golden era with all the comings and goings associated with a thriving hotel business.

No, these were different. This tediously ordinary structure held a special place in their hearts, and the sense of belonging they felt when they were here made it more akin to something they could call home than any of the other various set ups they had each found themselves in previously. It wasn't just their base of operations, or simply a place to work from. Here, family gathered, and it grounded them.

Everyone breathed that little bit easier, (metaphorically speaking, since Angel didn't need to breathe at all), when they all piled in, shuffling wearily over to the counter to dump their weapons and consider slumping momentarily into one of the soft, inviting guest couches that still furnished the place. Like kids that had finished playing with their toys but were loath to tidy them away afterwards, none of them relished the task of cleaning the essential pieces of itinerary that they often owed their lives to. Maybe it was a little too easy to take such things for granted. But having to systematically wipe away encrusted blood, check for damage and then deposit and rearrange the items carefully in the cabinet took energy that none of them felt they had at the moment.

With that in mind, they each intended to put the job off for a bit, at least until the pull of apartment comforts became to strong to bear. As it was, they were all in unspoken agreement that even moving to a chair took too much effort right now, and they all leant their arms heavily on the counter top, resting their chins in their palms. 

Only the occasional tired sigh broke the silence, no one feeling lively enough to make conversation, or even to move. If the penholder in the middle of the group had had any awareness at all, it would probably have felt uncomfortable enough to jump to the floor crying right now, everyone staring holes into it as their minds drifted around in daydreamer's space. 

Angel was the first to break his unintentional scrutiny, lifting himself straight again with painfully slow stiffness. 

"Coffee?" he asked, seeing the zoned out expressions on the faces of his friends. They looked somewhere between intensely bored and dead on their feet, and Angel figured that caffeine was the only solution, unless he wanted them all to end up sprawled on his lobby floor for the night. 

A couple of I'm-not-really-paying-attention 'hmm's escaped in response, and Angel took that as a 'hell yes, we need a fix'.

No one noticed the small shadow creeping around under the chairs on the other side of the room, just as they'd failed to notice the way that the entrance doors had hung open just that second or two longer than they should have done.

As Angel turned to the coffee machine, the same twinkling pair of eyes that had seen them all leave the warehouse watched with interest. A nose twitched with curiosity, the fragrant scent being something new to its owner, and definitely worth investigating.

Angel returned to the counter with his bounty, and Wesley took a couple of the hot mugs from his hands, handing one to Gunn and placing the other in front of Cordelia, who had finally pulled up a stool to perch on. She looked at it with disinterest at first, but gave in to the aroma, grateful that someone else had made it for a change. Taking a sip that almost burnt her tongue, she patted the seat next to her, and Angel joined her at her side, facing Wes and Gunn who still had their backs to the rest of the room.

Hunched over as they were, they blocked Cordelia and Angel's view of the floor, allowing the movements of the intruder to go on undetected. Feeling slightly disappointed at the lack of attention it had received so far, it moved forward from the shelter of the furniture to assert itself more fully, hoping for the chance to get a better look at the food the four strange humans seemed to be enjoying.

Wesley was pleasantly surprised when he tasted his drink, somewhat relieved that he wouldn't have to force himself to down the stuff out of politeness.

"This is good", he commented, smiling at Angel appreciatively.

"Yeah, I chucked out the old and put in some fresh", Angel replied, as if that was an explanation in itself.

Cordelia frowned at him, too tired for her usual dramatics. "What did you do that for? Do you know how expensive that stuff is? It was good for another couple of days!"

She gave each of them a glare in turn when they produced knowing smirks, reminding them that she didn't like to be teased. "Nobody here has a right to complain since I'm the only one who ever bothers to put the thing on in the mornings. If it's that bad, then you know what you can do, don't you? You can…"

A shrill chirp stopped her mid-rant, and everyone froze. Lowering their mugs slowly, they gave each other a cautious look before they moved. Cordelia and Angel leant out to side to see around the two men in front of them, and Wesley and Gunn turned their heads to look over their shoulders.

Sat upright on little hind legs was a tiny knee-high creature, patchy white and ginger fur standing out against the marble floor of the lobby. It seemed they had found the source of the noise.

"What the…"

"Jesus!" 

Gunn leapt up from where he was standing and flung himself over the counter away from the…whatever the hell it was.

Cordelia shrieked and jumped up on her stool, shuffling her feet and wavering her hands about under her chin like she'd seen the hairiest house spider in the world. 

Angel instinctively grabbed one of the discarded swords on the tabletop and moved around to face it, battle stance ready.

Wesley stared at the thing in disbelief and backed away until his back was pressed against the counter and he could get no further.

"Wesley, what the hell is that thing?" Gunn demanded, all thoughts of bravado gone.

"I don't…um…"

His mind drew a blank, quite certain that he had never before seen anything like this. If this was some strange demon from one of his books, he had certainly never had the pleasure, besides which, to all appearances, the creature looked…well…endearing. Unless it was indeed the devil in disguise, Wes was pretty sure it wasn't demonic in nature. 

For a second, no one dared to breathe, and they waited for the vicious attack to begin. The animal pricked its long ears up and rose a bit higher, its deep black eyes sparkling. It wiggled its dainty paw like hands and chirped again, cocking its head as though it was waiting for the answer to some important question. What could only be described as a puzzled frown appeared on its face when everyone just stared in shock, and it quivered its whiskers in encouragement. 

It took a step forward and everyone gasped, Angel and Gunn taking another step _back_. The creature didn't understand their reaction, but decided that they definitely were not intimidating. These humans seemed friendly and harmless enough and, deciding there was nothing to be afraid of, it made up its mind to continue with the encounter. 

Giving what it considered to be a friendly squeak so that they wouldn't be frightened, it scampered forward suddenly, moving so fast that even Angel didn't have time to intercept it. Before they knew what was happening, the little creature had wrapped itself around Wesley's calf, muzzling its head into the fabric of his clothing and purring.

Wide eyed with shock, Wesley looked down at the mysterious creature, paralysed and awe-struck.

"Oh my God!" Cordelia cried, jumping down and snatching up a weapon, ready to hack the little beast off if she had to. 

She Gunn and Angel rushed round, keeping a safe distance whilst trying to appear supportive. 

"It's okay, nobody panic!" Wesley entreated, his slightly high-pitched and shaky voice betraying his anxiety.

"Just…just don't move", Angel instructed.

"The thought never crossed my mind", Wesley replied nervously, his eyes pleading for help.

The animal seemed quite content to stay where it was for the time being, not even seeming to notice the fearful audience it had. Cordelia grimaced down at it with open fear, moving her _long _sword round in an attempt to poke it.

"We have to get it off", she almost whispered, "maybe we should…"

"No! Don't touch it. It might…do something. You don't know if it's safe…"

Wesley's reluctance for them to interfere didn't have the desired effect, and only strengthened Cordelia's resolve to act. 

"Hey…hey, little critter, get off my friend!"

The creature opened its eyes and turned to look at her, releasing its hold slightly at the sound of her raised voice. It gazed up at her face and chirped softly, moving towards her with its furry little arms outstretched. 

Cordelia immediately reeled backwards, helped on her way by a tug on her arms, courtesy of Angel and Gunn. Free of its embrace, Wesley scrambled away, and the creature was once again left alone on the floor, staring up in confusion at the group of people that surrounded it.

"Wes, are you alright?" Angel asked, not taking his eyes off of the perpetrator.

"Fine, it didn't do anything."

The creature turned to look at him again at the sound of his voice and followed his movements with its eyes. Backing into the rest of his friends and pushing them along with him, Wesley rounded the counter, heading for the office where they may have a chance of shutting the thing out. The others complied, trying not to make any sudden movements that might aggravate it. 

The behaviour of these humans seemed very strange indeed, but the creature decided to play along, intrigued by their version of the introductory greeting. It looked like they wanted it to follow them, so it did, not wanting to appear rude.

Wesley quickened the pace when the creature started after them, eager to get out of its reach before it decided to lunge at him again. Stumbling hastily into the office, everyone helped to get the door closed, peering down at the creature as it waited patiently outside.

"What is going on here?!" Cordelia demanded, turning to look at the others like this was their fault. "Did someone go to the pet store and buy a giant mutant rabbit without telling the rest of us?"

The guys shrugged, too freaked to fall into that argument trap. 

"We have to find out what it is", Angel told them, motioning towards the bookshelf. Wesley didn't miss the hint and got straight to it, reaching for the more obscure volumes in his collection.

"It looks like one of those weird little bear things in that Star Wars movie, don't you think?" 

Gunn looked at Cordelia in disbelief, unable to imagine her watching anything of that persuasion.

"Hey", she said, countering his look, "I dated Xander."

Wesley gave a frustrated sigh and stood up straight, staring down at an open book on the desk.

"What is it?" Angel asked, moving round to see the pages for himself.

"I don't know, I need to get a better look. There's not much to go on as it is, and I've got a feeling that I'm not going to be able to find the answers in any of the books I have here. There's a couple of possibilities, but I already suspect that they're a bit far fetched, and like I said, I need to get closer to confirm."

"Wait a minute, you're not going back out there, are you? When it's still alive?"

"What are you suggesting, Cordelia, that we kill it without finding out why it's here, or if it's even evil?"

"No…I guess not, I mean, it is kinda cute…but who knows what it can do?"

Everyone moved back to the door and peered through the glass, finding that the creature had made it's way up onto the counter.

"It looks peaceful enough", Wesley observed as they watched its movements. It was studying the abandoned mugs of coffee with amazement, eventually venturing to prod the dark liquid with a finger. Surprised at the warmth, it went on to sniff at it, then tentatively taste it. It screwed up its face at the result, obviously deciding it didn't like what it found.

Dismissing the coffee as useless, it turned its attention to the small vase of fake flowers at the side, pulling one down and trying to eat it. Kept for their aesthetic quality for the benefit of customers and not their nutritional value, the creature was disappointed to find that the fabric petals were not easy to chew. Throwing the stem to the side, it gazed at the decorative glass vase and spotted the water it held inside. Trying to reach its stubby arms inside, it toppled the glass over, scaring itself so that it ran back onto the floor and spilling the contents everywhere.

"Whoa!" Gunn shouted, "don't let it get near the water!"

The others frowned at him, and he elaborated. 

"What? Ain't you guys never seen 'Gremlins'?"

Wesley ignored his comment and opened the box of donuts on the desk, left over from the day before.

"A bit late for a snack, don't you think?" Cordelia snipped as he took one out.

"I think it's hungry", he replied, pushing past her and opening the door.

"Um, Wes, do you think that's such a good idea?" Angel asked, moving forward with his sword at the ready.

"I'm sure it's perfectly safe", was his reply, Wesley's curiosity getting the better of him.

He moved slowly over to where the creature was cowering under Cordelia's desk and crouched down in front of it. Big eyes were turned up to him and the creature squeaked, perking its ears up again. 

"Hey there little chap. Want some of this?"

Wesley offered the donut, careful not to look too threatening. The creature sniffed cautiously at his hand, then at the treat, looking back at his face as if for permission. Wesley lowered the donut to the floor and moved back a bit, watching the creature as it picked it up and licked it. Liking what it found, it got to work nibbling away, holding it up like a hamster with a peanut. Before long, the whole thing had been devoured, and all that was left was a generous sprinkling of sugar on its fur and a big red smudge across its nose.

Wesley smiled and stood to face his friends as the creature emerged from its hiding place, brushing its padded paws over its face. 

"There, see? It chose the donut over my hand at least."

Face washing over with, the little animal looked back up at Wes, pawing at his leg entreatingly.

"Get the rest", he told Cordelia, and she brought the box from the office and set it down on the counter top, inching sideways around their guest. It saw what she was carrying immediately and scrambled its way up shelving to reach it.

Everyone stood and watched with amazement as the small animal munched its way through the entire pack, not a single grain of sugar escaping its attention.

"Are you sure that's healthy for it?" Cordelia asked, doubting that a copious amount of donuts was its staple diet. 

"Fascinating…" Wesley replied, clearly in his element. He couldn't resist the urge to touch it.

Occupied as it was, and absorbed with its food, the creature didn't seem to mind as Wesley prodded and poked it, lifting up its ears and examining its hands. It had strange little padded fingers in amongst all its soft fur, but that was all the skin that was exposed. Its coat was so thick that Wesley couldn't see what was underneath. The huge fine whiskers and little stubby tail helped him to narrow down the species to be at least within the rodent family, but other than that, its origin was a mystery. He doubted that anything like this had ever been discovered before, at least outside of the mystical world.

Finishing off the treats and brushing itself down, the creature gave them all a satisfied look before yawning widely. Tiny little needle teeth of glimmering white flashed at the onlookers before being covered once again by the angelic, fluffy face.

The guys looked at each other, but no one said anything.

"Maybe I should get back to those books", Wesley offered after a pause, determined to get to the bottom of this. All thoughts of sleep had been chased from his mind with the arrival of this particular enigma, and his interest had been stirred.

The others were not so eager, however, and Cordelia longed for her bed. After standing around with nothing to do for a few minutes, she finally looked up at Angel with a smile, deciding that nothing apocalyptic was going to happen if she left. Unless the creature was able to grow to ten times it's normal size and secretly harboured a taste for human flesh, she guessed that no one was in any danger. 

"You guys have a nice time babysitting", she called as she turned to leave, "I'm going home. I'd tell you to call me if you need anything, but then I'd have to lie, what with the wanting to sleep and the grouchiness when I get woken up and everything. I'll be thinking of you when I climb into my nice soft bed, and I really do hope I won't come into work tomorrow to find that you've all been eaten. See ya."

"Yeah, I'm off too", Gunn joined in, "will you guys be okay with…it?"

"Sure, you two go ahead. I'll help Wes and make sure it doesn't go anywhere. I'll see you tomorrow." Angel waved them off as they departed, and then realised that he had been left with equipment cleaning duty. Sighing, he picked up a cloth and began polishing.

The creature had followed Wesley into the office, and he turned from the bookshelf to find it sitting on his desk watching him. He laid down the open book and sank into the chair, leaning forward on his elbows and studying the face in front of him. The creature tilted its head and stared right back, a look in its eyes that suggested it wanted to read his very soul.

"What are you?" Wesley asked it with a whisper, knowing he wouldn't get an answer.

As he turned back to his book and flicked through the pages, the creature began to build up its own picture of the human that had saved its life. It remained silent throughout its observation, not moving from the spot it had picked as a vantage point. It kept Wesley company through the rest of the night, remaining so still and quiet that he eventually forgot that it was there.

To be continued…    


	3. Fluffy beast containment

Disclaimer: Simple. Not mine, don't sue. Told ya it was simple.

Feedback: A big thank you to everyone who reviewed so far, it's very much appreciated. And yes, there is going to be some angst soon, as far fetched as that may sound. Keep writing, though, I'd like to know what you think when the story starts to twist, especially concerning the creature. 

Note: I know this chapter was a long time coming, compared with my usual update rate anyway, but I have an excuse. Blame it on results day. Here in little old England, it's been A'level results time, and I haven't been able to concentrate on anything else, I've been so worried. As it turned out, I did okay with two As and two Bs. Yay, uni here I come! I hope all you other students out there did okay too!  

CHAPTER 3.

That was the last one. Wesley had read the thing cover to cover, and was still no closer to identifying the creature that had found it's way into the hotel last night.

Closing the book and placing it on top of the pile of others that had also failed to yield a result, he leant back in his chair and looked at his watch. 8.30am. Impressive. A whole nights work and you've found nothing. What was he going to tell the others? Sorry, but I couldn't find out whether or not the little beast will try and eat you in your sleep, we'll just have to wait and see?

He sighed. The creature was still sat there on the desk, its little legs tucked under its body in a very cat-like way, watching his every move. He would have found it unnerving if he hadn't already endured the scrutiny for the last seven hours or so. He wondered if the thing actually needed to sleep, or whether it could just go on like this for days. Unfortunately for the human race, bodies like his weren't so accommodating, and every muscle he had was demanding rest.

It seemed that vampires were not impervious to the strain of a long nights work either. Having joined him earlier that night to help him keep an eye on the animal, Angel had settled into a chair on the other side of the room, book in hand. Despite his good intentions, he hadn't lasted very long before his head had begun to dip, and Wesley had watched in amusement as Angel had fallen asleep where he sat, slumped rather awkwardly in his seat.

Looking at him now, Wesley wondered whether he should save him some embarrassment by waking him before he others arrived for work. He was saved the decision when he heard the lobby doors opening, and Gunn appeared in the office doorway.

"You're early", Wesley commented, running a hand through his hair and stretching.

"Yeah, I wanted to make sure a certain fluff ball wasn't picking its teeth with your bones. And I thought about bringin' a dust pan and brush too, you know, just in case."

"Well, as you can see, we're both fine. Thank you for your concern." The pair of them grinned at each other; Gunn's smile widening at the sight of the vampire in the corner. 

"Doesn't that creep you out?" he asked, pointing. "He ain't even breathing. Looks like you got some dead guy in a chair over there and the worlds scariest furby on your desk."

Wesley shrugged, stifling a yawn and deciding he didn't much care anymore. The research could wait till later, but right now, he wanted to go home. Gunn and Angel could hold the fort until Cordelia dragged herself in, and it was there turn to play babysitter. 

The creature stirred as Wesley got up, addressing the group with a chirp that inadvertently woke Angel up. Blearily jerking up his head, he squinted at Gunn and hurriedly brushed himself down, pretending that nothing had happened. 

"Just resting my eyes", he insisted, distracting them from the subject by pointing at Wesley's desk. "So, did you find anything?"

As if to answer his question, the little creature jumped from the table and onto Angel's knee in a short flurry of movement, eliciting a small cry of surprise from said vampire. It gazed into his eyes for a second and then began to study his entire body, feeling around his clothes and finally reaching across his face to explore his peculiarly spiky hair with its fingers. 

Touching the hair was the last straw for Angel, and he shot to his feet, grasping the little creature under its arms and holding it away at arms length. Squirming a bit but otherwise uncomplaining, it looked up at him serenely, enjoying the fun. Angel glared at it warily, and carefully placed it back down where it had come from, looking round to find that he had now become a source of amusement for his smirking friends.

"I haven't been able to pinpoint a species, Angel, no", Wesley supplied, sparing Angel the indignity of a witty remark, but not quite managing to wipe the smile off of his face either. "As much as I would like to find out, I'm afraid it'll just have to remain a mystery until I can actually see straight again, which won't be for a long time to come if I don't stop reading soon."

He turned to leave the office, picking up his coat as he went and fishing a round in his pocket for his car keys. Angel made after him, protesting at the fact that he was being left with the critter, closely followed by Gunn who didn't want to miss the action. The little creature followed immediately, scrambling down off the desk and running through their legs, eager not to let Wesley out of its sight. 

Only momentarily distracted by the feel of soft fur brushing past him and nearly tripping up his feet, Angel continued with his pleas, knowing that if Wesley left, Gunn would be quick to make an excuse to leave him on his own with the thing.

"You can use one of my rooms. And I'm not sure you're safe to drive like that, after such a long night. Think of road safety!"

"Angel, I'll be fine. I really do want to change these clothes, and I'd rather just go home. It's only fair, after all…"

At that point, the opening of the lobby doors interrupted the discussion, and for a second, Wesley thought that Cordelia had also come in early. Before he got the chance to check the sky for flying pigs, the real person stepped in.

"Um, excuse me, but is this Angel Investigations? There wasn't a sign…"

"This is it", Angel confirmed, guiding the creature back towards the office with a sharp nudge of his foot. "I'm Angel, how can we help?"

The smartly dressed woman sauntered across the lobby floor, her executive high heels clicking out her steps and adding height to her shapely long legs. Dark brown curls cascaded down her shoulders, held in place only by the stylish lenses perched on the end of her nose. The three men willed themselves to pay attention as she approached the counter, bringing up a small leather satchel to place on top.

"I'm Mrs. Lovelle. I believe my husband hired you to look into disturbances at our company and locate a group of vandals?"

The creature, intrigued by the sound of the new voice, struggled against Angel's restraining leg and broke free, scurrying past into more open space. Trying to keep a calm expression, Angel glanced sideways to see the creature trying to climb its way up the reception desk, determined to make its presence known. Wesley spotted it just in time and stepped forward as it stuck its furry head over the top. Pushing it back down quickly with a discrete hand, Wesley leaned in next to Angel.

"Yes, that's right, we found the source of the, er, problem, and it's been taken care of." He gave Angel a sidelong look that confirmed that they both had questions. Why this woman's husband hadn't told her the true nature to the problem, he could only guess. Maybe telling her that he'd hired a group of supernatural detectives to neutralise a nest of flesh eating demons would have been too much. Wes could understand that. But why then had she been sent here about it in place of the one person who knew what he was up against?

"Excuse me, Mrs. Lovelle, I don't mean to be rude, but where's your husband? I got the impression over the phone that he wanted to come in and clear this up personally."

She produced a polite smile and flicked back her hair rather distractingly.

"I'm afraid he's indisposed at the moment, so he sent me in his place. I'm sure you can appreciate that he is a very busy man. Anyway, I'm here to ask if everything went well and to write out your cheque."

The creature started swatting at Wesley's leg, protesting at its harsh treatment and insisting upon recognition. Trying to ignore it wasn't working, but picking it up and shutting it in the office wasn't an option either. Keeping it hidden would be much harder if it decided to make a run for the lobby, and it was becoming more and more agitated. Pinning it against the shelving, Wesley gave Angel a meaningful glance, and the creature chose the moment to squeak in annoyance.

The woman frowned and looked at the men accusingly. Gunn coughed, thumping his chest with his fist in an attempt to look genuine.

"Would you like to come this way", Angel asked, taking the hint. He hurried around to the front of the desk and ushered the woman into the second office door and she obliged reluctantly, looking over her shoulder at the smiling pair of Wesley and Gunn.

As soon as the door closed, Wesley picked up the wriggly animal and carried it away, out of view of the office windows. Gunn followed, keeping an eye out for more unsuspecting members of the public, and they shut it in the bathroom.

They both stood guard for a good twenty minutes, flinching at the sound of the occasional crash or tumble of objects from within. Finally, the office door opened again and the woman emerged, smiling and shaking Angel's hand. She breezed past them on her way out, nodding in appreciation before she left. 

When she had gone, they breathed a sigh of relief, and Wesley braced himself before he opened the bathroom door again. Sure enough, the creature had managed to make a mess, probably in defiance more than anything else. It sat on the floor with a mischievous glint in its eye, deciding that sulking wouldn't have had the same effect. Bottles of Cordelia's migraine medicine lay strewn across the floor, but, mercifully, it lacked the strength, intelligence and opposable thumbs to have opened the childproof caps. Having discovered the wonders of toilet paper, it had gone on to explore the contents of the cabinet, removing the various items it had found.

Its expression innocent, the creature chirped at them, a squeezy bottle of toothpaste in its paws. Dental floss was wound around its head, tangled web-like on its ears. Biting off the lid of the tube it held, it squirted the minty gel out of its container, managing to get a generous amount smeared on its face. Deciding that it definitely tasted like food, it stretched out its arms, offering some to its newfound human friend. 

Wesley frowned down at it and tried to look angry, but he couldn't bring himself to feel annoyed in the slightest. Instead, he reached down and picked up the thing in his arms, pulling the debris from its fur. The creature snuggled into him comfortably, enjoying the attention. 

He returned it back to the desk, wiping toothpaste off as he went, and sighed at the expectant little face that blinked up at him. 

"What are we going to do with it?" he asked when Angel and Gunn joined him.

"Don't suppose we can take it to the nearest re-homing shelter, huh?"

The creature turned to Gunn, transfixed by the gleam of his shiny head. Freaked out a bit by its intense stare, Gunn leant back and forced himself to look at Angel instead.

"What did she say, then?" he asked, knowing that he wouldn't get an answer where it concerned the fluff ball. 

"She said her husband's away on business and that, being second in command, she took it upon herself to tie up loose ends while he's away. Apparently she doesn't know about the real reason her husband contacted us, just that we still needed to be paid."

"Speaking of which…"

Angel held up a cheque and flapped it in the air in front of Gunn, and he snatched it away to read it himself. Whistling and smiling, he handed it over to Wesley when he was done, and he too took a look.

The sound of the doors opening yet again broke the mood, and they all jumped, fearing that the woman would come back in and discover their little secret. The creature, sensing their unease, leapt up onto Wesley's shoulders for protection, clinging onto the back of his neck for grip.

"Wow, did you guys see that skirt? That was _nice_."

Cordelia swept in, stopping at the sight of her three colleagues staring in surprise at her.

"What?" she asked, and they visibly relaxed, rolling their eyes in relief. "Hey, Wes, don't look now but you've got squirrel nutkin growing out the back of your head."

Wesley gave her a sarcastic smile and reached up to pull it off, puzzled when it resisted and refused to let go. Giving in and hoping it would get down by itself, he turned his attention back to their paycheque. Gunn 'subtly' whispered behind his hand to Angel as Cordelia approached.

"Man, do you think she can smell the money or what?"

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. Gimme gimme." She relieved Wesley of the lightest of his burdens and jumped up and down with glee, a huge smile erupting across her face to an extent that it looked unnatural. Without another word, she ferreted it away to a file, ready to be cashed in on her next trip to the bank. 

"Was that her that gave us this? For mushing a few easy peasy demons? We should get clients like her more often!"

Angel nodded in confirmation and filled her in on the details. Apparently, he'd had to concoct some story about a gang of youths being responsible for the damage to cover up for the fact that they had actually had to clear out a newly dug demon nest. The money more than covered the extra expenses required for the more demonic aspects of the job, so Cordelia didn't complain about the lack of recognition for what they had really had to do. 

Gunn clearly didn't appreciate the place the blame had been put, but Angel managed to convince him that it was for the best. With a huff, he turned to begin rectifying the damage done to the temporary cell used for fluffy-beast-containment earlier, leaving the others to deal with _it_.

"It seems to be quite attached to you, Wes, no pun intended. I think you've found a new friend. That's got to be a first!"

Wesley gave her an unfriendly glare, and Angel could already see where this was going.

"Okay, so let's not tease the people who haven't had the benefit of a nights sleep, shall we?" He gave Cordelia a warning look that somewhat deflated her chipper mood. She was never usually this perky in the mornings anyway, not usually being greeted to work by a big fat cheque as soon as she walked in the door, but she restrained herself, deciding it best not to push Wes too far. 

Angel put his hands on Wesley's shoulders and manoeuvred him away, noticing his darkening expression. Tired and grouchy he could deal with, but tired and grouchy _and _arguing with Cordelia he didn't think he could handle. The pair of them would drive him crazy one of these days.

Coaxing him rather covertly towards one of the sofas on the far side of the lobby, Angel had managed to persuade Wesley to sit down before he realised just what his friend was up to. Adamant to the end that he wanted to go home, Wesley refused to give up without a fight, forcing Angel to physically stop him from getting up again. He was going to have to use different tactics to win this one.

The creature still clung tightly to Wesley's neck, and Angel used the excuse that it wouldn't come off to dissuade Wesley from leaving and doing himself an injury on the road. Knowing how stubborn the man could be when he wanted to, Angel pulled out all the stops, rationally explaining that all the books were here and close at hand for when he woke up, so no time would be wasted that could be better spent finding out about the creature. 

It didn't look to Cordelia like Wesley was buying all this for a second, but eventually losing the will to resist made Angel's job easier, and Wesley finally gave in, muttering complaints to himself when Angel smiled in triumph.

Making himself comfortable on the couch didn't take long, especially once the creature had relinquished its hold on his skin. It crawled up to sit on the top of the cushions, looking down on its sleeping charge with protective adoration. Assigning itself the task of guarding its now vulnerable friend, the creature sat bolt upright, carefully monitoring all movements in the room.

Angel joined Cordelia at the counter again, and they watched the creature with some confusion as it repeatedly scanned the lobby for danger. Cordelia couldn't understand how it had become so devoted to Wesley in so little time, but guessed it was harmless enough and stopped worrying about it. Angel, on the hand, only became more anxious to find information on the thing, and went about organising some research that could be done in the meantime. 

As he got to work assigning Internet duty to Cordelia, the creature sat in silence, reflecting on the nights events and the things it had discovered. The souls it had seen here had been full of grief and pain, something it was in fact very sensitive to. Had they known its true purpose, they probably would have afforded it some more respect, but the little creature was oblivious to such sentiments. All it knew was that it had made up its mind to stay here with these poor humans and help take care of them after all of the horrible things it had seen had happened to them all. 

Unfortunately for it, the creature was unable to form a well-rounded assessment of each individual, seeing only the bad and not the good in their lives. But nonetheless, its motivations were honourable enough, and it intended to stay and learn. For now, it resigned itself to settling uneasily into the top of the couch, not relaxing entirely, just in case. It knew things that these mere humans could not imagine, and it was going to keep its guard. After all, in its opinion, these hard done by people needed all the help they could get.

                                                *          *          *

Having gratefully voiced her thanks to the vampire and got one last good look at the place, the woman had left, glimpsing once again the suspicious looks on the other's faces before she went. They were hiding something; there was no doubt about that.  

On her way out, she had passed a younger woman making her way through the tiny garden to the entrance. Smiling pleasantly and with a polite 'good morning', she had walked by; picking up on the crafty glance the other woman had afforded her when she had thought she wasn't looking. Definitely suspicious.

Keeping up the pretence, the woman crossed the street and rounded a corner, well out of sight of the hotel and being sure to stay in the bright morning sunshine that now bathed Los Angeles in it's light. Any smart person would do that anyway in these parts, if they knew what was good for them, and not because there was a possibility of getting mugged. She was all too aware of the dangers, and she did well to avoid them.

Picking up her pace and hastily tying back her hair with a band, she approached the waiting car parked at the curb not far away. The tinted window rolled down smoothly as she neared, and she nodded her head to the driver.

She glided round to the passenger side door and slid into her seat, flinging the satchel into the back.

"Well?" the man beside her asked, flicking his cigarette out onto the pavement impatiently. 

The woman wrinkled her nose at the man, making it clear for the fiftieth time that she did not appreciate the haze of smoke she was forced to inhale when she was trapped in the car with him. Rolling her eyes when his flinty gaze didn't waver, she put their petty disagreement out of her mind and got to the point, her business face returning.

"It's there", she said.

To be continued…     


	4. A clump of spines

Disclaimer: I only own the creature, so _Angel _and all the characters from it do not belong to me…unfortunately. Otherwise, I would probably be very rich, which I'm not, very talented, which I'm not, and very famous, which I'm definitely not. So don't sue me, 'cause like I said, I'm poor. (Me = Student, get it?)

Feedback: Lots and lots and lots, please, even if it's bad. Honestly, I'm addicted, ask my family. And thanks especially for the congrats, guys, you nearly made me cry. :) 

* smiles smugly at the thought of results day glory *

Special thanks to Vicky for the email you sent, I feel all warm inside! And take note, all of the 'its' have been rectified (I think), thanks for pointing out the mistake. 

Note: Okay, angst starts soon, folks, so get ready. See if you can guess what's coming… 

CHAPTER 4.

* tap * * tap * * tap * * click *

"Boring."

* tap * * tap * * tap * * click *

"_Boooriing_."

"Cordelia, if you hate doing it so much, then why don't just swap with me like I said?"

Angel had tried not to let her get to him, God he had tried, but there is only so much even a two and a half century old vampire can take. The Internet search wasn't proving fruitful, so he could understand the girl's frustration, but the fact that she still pointedly refused to do anything remotely book related instead wound him up something chronic. He was finding it hard enough concentrating as it was.

Cordelia raised her eyebrows at him as if to say 'ooh, touchy' and focused back on the screen. Reaching to the side to grab her coffee, she brushed against something unexpected, and turned to come face to face with a pair of eyes.

"GAAH!"

Closing her eyes with a hand on her chest, she took a deep breath, willing herself to be patient with their guest. The creature blinked at her, twitching its whiskers in concentration. For some reason, it had felt the need to leave Wesley's side and stare intensely at her, as though it didn't trust her not to come over there and attack the pair of them. Maybe she was throwing off vibes or something.

It cautiously inspected the flashing coloured rectangle she seemed so intent on and, satisfied that it wasn't a threat, moved past her along the desk. She watched as it approached Angel, checking to see if the hostile energy between them was going to cause a fight. When he looked at it placidly and tickled it behind the ear, the creature felt it safe enough to leave them alone again. The human female and the demon sure did need constant supervision, if this was the way they were going to behave.

It gave them a telling off, squeaky rodent style, and hopped back down to the floor, returning to its post on Wesley's couch. Cordelia and Angel looked at each other, wondering what that was all about, and then returned to their tasks.

Scrolling through very unhelpful websites was not one of Cordelia's favourite pastimes, and she envied Gunn for being allowed to leave on the pretence that he had gang business to attend to. Cordy wasn't stupid. She knew he had just made an excuse not to have to do some research, but Angel had let him go. She consoled herself with the knowledge that he would probably have been of little use anyway, and there was nothing they needed hunting down and killing just at the moment.

Sighing loudly and slumping her head on her hand, she feigned falling asleep, just to get her point across. Angel looked up from his book again and narrowed his eyes at her warningly. 

"Okay, okay, and I'm typing."

Two whole hours she had been at this. Two whole hours of the most inane, worthless, scientific jargon about animal research facilities, zoo welfare policies, supposed roaming beast sightings and demon lore. She was running out of ideas and out of stamina. And what was worse, 50% off discount sales at local clothing stores mocked her and enticed her by announcing themselves in flashing pop up boxes, many with the promise of free items and even prize money if she gave in and succumbed to temptation. 

To add insult to injury, her newly procured copy of _Cosmo _called to her from her shoulder bag, the corner of the unread magazine poking seductively through the zipper. She bit her lip and averted her gaze, determined not to be so weak and shallow. But God, this was _dull_. Maybe just a quick break as a reward for her hard work. The guys would understand.

She slipped quietly from her stool, making her way discretely across the gap between her workstation and the copy of her beloved glossy. Without looking up from what looked like the original copy of the bible, it was that ancient, Angel reached out an arm and pulled Cordelia's bag a little closer to him along the counter. Spinning on her heel with a whispered 'damn!', Cordelia returned to her seat, a childish pout on her face.  

Over on the other side of the lobby, Wesley tossed in his sleep, shifting and rolling over on the couch. Cordelia did not miss the movement, and she was immediately on her feet.

"Oh good, he's awake. He can come back and do some work with us then."

She skipped quickly past Angel before he could stop her, eager to get Wesley doing more research so that she would be relieved of the job. If anyone could find the answer, it was him, and she had star signs to read.

"Cordelia, don't…" Angel tried, but he was already too late. Since when did she listen to him anyway? This wasn't going to be good.

"Come on, sleepy head, time to make with the research."

Grabbing a wrist, she pulled on his arm, and he grimaced in response to the disturbance.

"Nnnn…Cawdeela…go 'way…"

"Oh come on, don't be such a big baby. Serves you right for staying up all night. Don't you want to know about our big breakthrough? That's right, we've sifted through all the useless stuff, so know there's only important stuff left to find! Come quick and see!"

She tugged on his arm again and he sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Hmm? 'kay, coming."

Angel shook his head in disbelief. Cordelia was just lucky that her victim was too sleep deprived to realise what she had said.

"I've found a couple of possibilities on the net that might explain where _it_ came from, and Angel's found some weird demon references that could be significant, but he can't translate some of the language and I have no idea what I'm looking for. We need your help, so you'll just have to save the sleep till later."

Only half listening to the droning voice demanding his attention, Wesley forced himself to his feet, trying to remember where exactly he was. Oh yeah, the hotel. That would explain why Cordelia's insistent fingers were cutting off his blood supply, then. In no condition to argue without his words inadvertently sounding like a whine, he let himself be pulled from the comfortable haven of the couch and, perhaps for the first time in his life, felt dread creep over him at the prospect of having to do more reading. Right now, that was the last thing he wanted to do.

A moment of clarity managing to shine its way through his fuzzy brain, he realised he had left his glasses on the armrest, and twisted in Cordelia's grasp to reach out for them. 

Misinterpreting his resistance, Cordelia gave another sharp tug on his arm, angrily attempting to make sure he followed. Already unsteady on his feet, Wesley was yanked backwards suddenly and whirled round by the force of her pull like elastic that had been stretched too far and snapped. The momentum carried him forward along the route Cordelia had taken, weaving through some of the chairs in her way, but the speed and general unfocused state of his surroundings meant that Wesley misjudged the last few steps, tripping on a chair leg and virtually diving face first over the other side of it, landing on the floor with a thud.

With Wesley's arm suddenly ripping itself from Cordelia's hand in an attempt to brace his fall, accompanied by a startled grunt, she spun round, realising what she had done. She covered her mouth with her hand to try and suppress a giggle as Wes floundered around on the floor, a tangle of limbs and chair legs. 

"Ow!" he yelled irritably, his mind having snapped back from the verge of sleep far too quickly for his liking.

"Oh God, Wes, I'm sorry", Cordelia half giggled, offering a hand to help him up.

A harsh hiss stopped her in her tracks and she froze, the creature launching itself off of the couch in her direction. Something sharp jabbed against her hand and she snatched it back, cradling it to her chest as she looked on in shock. The once cute and fury little animal had morphed into a clump of spines, its back bristling threateningly as it stood between her and her floored friend. 

Obviously less aggressive than it seemed, the creature made no other move, simply warning her not to approach as it hissed and spat like a witch's cat. She backed off a few steps to give it some room, and the creature retreated, turning its attention to Wesley. The spikes that protruded from every inch of its body slowly sank away again, sheathed safely under its thick fur and returning it to its normal appearance. No longer baring its teeth, it pawed at Wesley's side, chattering nervously as he regarded it warily. 

Before she even heard him approach, Angel was at Cordelia's side, leading her away slowly, just in case.

"Why did it do that?" she asked, somewhat dazed, "I didn't do anything…I wasn't trying to hurt it…"

"I think maybe it's just a little overprotective", Angel replied, looking back at the scene over his shoulder. "Wes, are you alright?"

"Um, yes, everything's…fine."

Still lying on the floor, he stared with renewed confusion at the creature now whimpering and grabbing handfuls of his shirt, concern brimming in its soulful eyes. 

Angel took Cordelia's hand in his, examining the small puncture marks and the trickle of blood seeping from the wound.

"Looks like it got you there", he said, pointing at the evidence when Cordelia's lack of response worried him a bit. She shook off her shocked expression and forced herself to pay attention, for the first time noticing her injury.

"Oh, right", she said distractedly, "Um, I'll get the first aid kit. It's only a little scratch."

"The one in the bathroom got trashed earlier, but there's one in my room if you want me to get it for you…"

"No, that's okay, I'll get it. I'm not an invalid."

She set off for the stairs before Angel could fuss anymore, taking one last suspicious glance at the creature before she left. Angel watched her go with a frown, wondering if maybe she wasn't as 'alright' as she claimed to be. She looked shaken, but knowing Cordelia, she probably wouldn't admit that to anyone. He sighed at the thought, but decided he'd give her a little time before he tackled her about it. A chirp from the creature grabbed his attention, and he put it out of his mind, for the time at least.

Wesley pushed himself back up to his feet, brushing down his clothing in a feeble effort to appear calm. The creature still shuffled around at his feet uneasily, pleading eyes turned up to him as though it needed confirmation about his health status. He could only assume that what the creature had perceived as an act of violence on Cordelia's part had sparked the little thing into such rash behaviour, and now it looked about ready to burst with worry. 

"Do you need some help with that?" Angel asked, approaching cautiously and wondering what they should do with it next. 

"No, I can handle it. You'd better not come to close for the time being."

He bent down and picked the creature up, lifting it high up near his face so that it could see him clearly.

"See? Nothing to worry about. It'll take more than a shove from Cordelia to keep me down. I'm fine, good as new, fighting fit. Now please, don't attack anyone else."

The creature gazed at him, utterly oblivious to everything he had just said. But the soothing tone of his voice calmed it considerably, and it looked at least half convinced that he wasn't going to drop down dead. Wesley got the impression that even if it could understand him, it probably wouldn't believe him anyway, and inwardly groaned at the thought of the trust issues it and Cordelia were going to have from now on. More than ever, the importance of finding information about this unique little being weighed heavily on him, demanding that he find answers, and soon.

He placed the creature on the counter top and paused, planning his next move. The creature stared at him wide eyed, its previously lively attitude subdued and replaced by an anxious mood. Angel moved around them towards the fridge in the back, being sure to give them both a wide berth. Wesley noticed the creature watching him as he opened it up, removing his preferred breakfast ingredients from their shelf and making off, presumably in search of the microwave in the kitchen.

Wesley smiled when he saw the creature's gaze lingering in the direction of the big cold food dispenser, and decided that he was hungry too. That settled it then. The only way to solve this particular problem was the throw food at it until it went away.

                                                *            *            *

Cordelia's hand began to throb and sting a little as she made her way up the stairs in search of Angel's room and, hopefully, a nice soft bandage to wrap around it. She made a mental note to stay well clear of the little beast from now on. Maybe she should suggest they get it a cage or a leash or something. On second thoughts, she didn't think Wesley would go for that. He'd probably give her a lecture when she got back down about appropriate behaviour around an animal. Stupid creature.

Pushing the door open with her good hand, she stepped inside the room and reached for the light switch in an attempt to illuminate the otherwise dim, vampire friendly space. She was rewarded with a dull * _plink_ * when she flipped the switch, and in a brief flash of orange, the light bulb blew.

"Great", she mumbled to herself, not in the mood for fumbling around in the dark with only one hand, or entirely reasonable enough to want to deal with things that insisted on breaking when she touched them.

She balled up her fists and blew out a breath, wanting to keep a lid on her impatience lest she degenerate into throwing a temper tantrum or hissing fit. She really needed to get a hold of herself. That was the old Cordelia, and she was a much more tolerant person now. She'd always had the tendency to mood swing dramatically, and maybe react in the extreme to certain situations, but she was better than that now, and a little pain and a bit of a shock shouldn't be allowed to take that from her. Chill, Cor.

She made for the bedside table, guessing that it was as good a place as any to keep a first aid kit, and not knowing of a better place to start looking. Besides, you never know what interesting little nuggets you might find after an open invitation to search someone's room. Okay, so that was High School Cordy again. And anyway, _yuck_. What was she thinking? This is Angel, plus, _vampire_.

Nope, not in there. She closed the little cupboard door and stood up, catching the side of the table when she suddenly swayed. Okay, so that was weird. She wasn't usually the type to get all light-headed at the sight of a little blood. And besides, this sensation was different, one she couldn't quite explain. She must have gotten up a little too quickly and the blood had drained from her head, that was it.

After a pause, the strangeness passed, and she took a deep breath. There, all better. She turned to look at the rest of the room, wondering where to search next. Ah ha, the wardrobe. 

Then she heard something that seemed completely out of place here, in this hotel. It was laughter, quiet and fleeting, as if caught on a breeze. But it wasn't any of the guys downstairs. It was the musical peal of a child, a faded giggle that chilled her in a way that she would never had thought possible. It wasn't particularly sinister, but it unnerved her, nonetheless. 

Forgetting about her mission and her hand completely, she turned to the direction of the noise to face the open door, but the almost ghostly sound was silenced, like it was hiding from discovery. She approached the open doorway and looked down the hall. Nothing.

She whirled. There, at the very end of the corridor, a dim shadow disappeared around the corner, glimpsed so briefly in the corner of her eye that she wondered if she had in fact seen anything at all. Then the sound of lightly running footsteps reached her ears as an echo, the dispatcher retreating steadily away from her.

Cordelia didn't know why she did it, but she was suddenly compelled to take off after the vanishing shadow, even though it was no more than an apparition to her eyes that would probably prove to be nothing more than a figment of her imagination. She would reach the corner only to find herself alone, and the foolishness of her actions would be revealed. But she had to see for herself and find out. 

Sprinting as fast as her heels would allow, she flew down the carpeted hallway, mindless of the treacherous rolls and dips that threatened to familiarise her with the musty pile. She should have taken heed, she realised afterwards, as a particularly malicious bit of floral design snagged her foot, sending her tumbling to the floor with an * oomph! *.

A burst of laughter echoed around her again, this time sounding closer, only just out of reach. Her breath came in short gasps now, exploding from her lungs in protest at her haste. A new sense of urgency compelled her onwards, though, despite her laboured breathing, and something akin to nervous exhilaration thrilled through her veins. She had to find the source of the sound, even for want of a rational reason.

Taking the last few steps a little more carefully this time, she rounded the corner…and stopped.

There, in the middle of the corridor, stood a little boy. He looked to be about six years old, his mischievous grin and deep brown eyes directed up at her and betraying his youth more than anything else. His overly long brown hair fell across his face in places, the rest tied back rather untidily behind his head. Scraggy tangles poked up rebelliously, telling of hours of reckless fun and tumble.

The little boy laughed again with that same melodious quality as Cordelia stared down, surprise and confusion stealing her words. He flexed his toes, drawing attention to his bare feet, and bounced playfully on his heels. His clothing, whilst probably intended to look smart, was rumpled and slightly dirty, his white shirt showing smudges and grass stains in even the most inaccessible of places. How he had gotten them, it was hard to tell, but more pressing questions were forming themselves in Cordy's mind.

She wanted to demand 'who are you', 'how did you get in here' and 'what are you doing', but realised that a certain amount of patience had to be employed when addressing six-year-old children. Not wanting to scare him away, or, on the other hand, provoke stubborn taunts and verbal abuse (always a possibility with wayward young impressionables and not unheard of in these parts), she put on her best smiley 'I'll be your friend' face and bent her knees, reducing the distance between the two of them.

"What's your name, little guy?" she asked, trying to project a calmness that she didn't feel. If she could feign normality and make the exchange seem like the most natural thing in the world, she could probably get him to talk with out much trouble, or get arrested as a potential child abuser, stalker, kidnapper, whatever, take your pick.

The boy grinned again in amusement, as though she had just spouted gibberish enough to give gobbledey-gook and double-dutch a run for their money. Leaning to the side, he averted his gaze to look at something behind Cordelia's back, and she suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Jerking her head round, she saw a very confused looking Angel standing at the corner watching her, a concerned frown on his face.

"Angel!" she cried, standing up straight and facing him. 

"I, um, just wanted to check that everything was alright. You didn't come back down." He stabbed his thumb in the direction of the staircase and his frown deepened. "Are you…okay?"

Trawling her brain for a way to begin and explain everything in a way that made sense, she twirled back round again and opened her mouth to speak. Instead, she stopped, gasping at what she saw.

When she looked back down the corridor, the little boy had gone.

To be continued…       


	5. It's a long story

Disclaimer: _Angel_ and the guys I use from it are so far from being mine that you'd need a Star Trek style warp speed spaceship to cross the distance, or die before you get there.

Feedback: Music may be food for the soul, and Italian the food of love, but feedback is definitely the food for hungry authors such as myself, so keep it coming! And it's great to see your thoughts, you clever little reviewers! You guessed my secret, carefully thought out plan, after all my hours of intense structuring and picking of choice words so as not to give it away. Sigh. You're just too good. Oh well, at least you understand what's going on, that has to be a plus! So, as a reward just for you, here is the longest chapter I have even written, full of angsty goodness and, yes, that's right, some mini Wes. (Feel loved, Eloise!) 

WARNING: This one contains hints of child abuse, so if you can't handle that sort of thing, I suggest you don't read. It's nothing too graphic, but I know some people may find the implications disturbing.

CHAPTER 5.

None of this stuff was exactly appropriate breakfast material, in fact, health and nutrition experts would probably run screaming at the thought, but Wesley had made the best of a bad situation and improvised. Since he was left alone to look after the creature, he couldn't exactly go out for anything, and even he didn't think a take out was such a good idea at this hour. 

Having foraged around in the very sparsely stocked kitchen cupboards, he had come up with a half eaten packet of cookies, a couple of melted candy bars and what appeared to be a box of dry cereal. God knows where this stuff had come from, or how long it had been there, but it was better than nothing.

Crumbs and foil wrappers littered the counter top, the creature sat dead in the middle, tucking into its second bar of chocolate. It hadn't taken much persuasion to get it to try the new food, and now it looked like there was no stopping it. 

Wes opened the cereal packet and examined the contents, debating whether or not the teeny bits of unrecognisable fodder looked safe and edible. There was nothing growing on it, which was a good sign, and he pulled a handful out to get a better look. The creature noticed immediately, dropping the mangled remains of its previous meal and scampering forward to see. Taking Wesley's hand in its own, it pulled the food down to its own level, not wanting to miss out on anything tasty he might have found.

Without much hesitation, it had licked Wesley's hand clean, a fact that he wasn't too enthusiastic about, considering. Whilst he regarded his hand with distaste and attempted to wipe it down on the side of his leg, the creature rummaged around some more, pulling out a cookie and holding out to its friend. When Wesley didn't take it, the creature moved forward and pressed it against his mouth, chirping in encouragement. These humans could be pretty stupid at times.

Surprised and somewhat amused, Wesley pushed the creature gently away, taking the cookie from it instead. Adamant that he should eat something, the creature stubbornly refused to leave him alone, pestering him and squeaking until he took a cautious bite. Past their use by date, the soggy lumps of dough were far from appetising, but he suppressed a cringe and kept up the act until the creature was satisfied that its charge had been well fed. 

The creature turned back to the rest of the food, and Wesley took the opportunity to throw the rest away and spit in disgust when it wasn't looking. It looked back to check, and he smiled at it in appeasement. If it thought he was going to eat anything else, though, it had another thing coming. 

Content for the time being, the little animal got to work sifting through the leftovers for any thing salvageable, becoming confused when a particularly sticky piece of foil attached itself to its fur and refused to be dislodged. Wesley grinned to himself as the creature stared down at its paws in bewilderment, simply transferring the offending piece from hand to hand instead of managing to shake it off. 

Rolling his eyes good naturedly, Wesley got to work helping the creature out and cleaning up its chocolate stained fluff, wondering how it was that he had been left with babysitting duty again. He had tried to call Gunn to ask him to pick up a couple of research sources on his way back, but he was stubbornly refusing to answer his phone. And now, Angel had gone off somewhere, probably after Cordelia. He frowned a bit at that thought, realising they'd been gone a while, and he wondered if she was okay. 

Dabbing away at little whiskered cheeks like some well-seasoned mother, he decided that, as soon as Angel came back down, he'd go and make sure Cordelia was alright himself and apologise on behalf of his furry friend. Knowing her, she'd probably harbour a grudge against the little thing, and he didn't want that to happen, he felt bad enough about what had happened as it was. In fact, he was pretty sure that was one of the reasons why she had gone off upstairs in the first place. And if previous experience was anything to go by, Angel would probably prove to be pretty much useless on the working-out-the-problem front. 

That made Wesley smile, despite his concerns. Maybe it was a bit cruel, but he couldn't help it, and Angel would probably admit as much himself. Wesley could imagine him up there now, most likely without a clue about what was going on.

                                                            *            *            *

"What's going on, Cordelia?" Angel asked when Cordelia remained rooted to the spot, staring down the corridor like she had just seen a ghost. Okay, so maybe that wouldn't have shocked a person like Cordy, what with a housemate like Dennis, but you get the idea. Inspiration struck him and he gasped, starting forward and babbling hurriedly. "Did you have a vision? Is that what it is?"   

Cordelia turned to him, her eyes still on the floor, as though she was trying to figure something out. She stepped back when Angel reached for her, holding up her hand to reassure him.

"No, no nothing like that. I'm okay, I just…I thought I saw something, that's all. I'm fine, really."

She looked up at him and saw the concern in his eyes, realising that she probably hadn't fooled him a bit, but instead had gone further towards worrying him into a state of anxiety. She needed time to think. She couldn't deal with his questioning right now, and she certainly wasn't prepared to tell him that she was seeing things and possibly even going crazy. And she'd be damned if she was going to confess to anything so cliché as 'I see dead people'. It was probably nothing, after all, and she didn't want to worry him, just as much as she didn't want to be locked away in a mental institution, thank you very much. She made a mental note to lay off the migraine tablets a bit, and put on her best 'everything's great' smile.

"Angel, don't look at me like that. You'll give yourself wrinkles. Honestly, there's nothing wrong."

The lying wasn't working, and she realised that Angel had probably already heard everything she had done and said, being a vampire and all. Okay, shock tactics needed.

"Angel, can I use one of your rooms? I'm a bit tired."

Angel blinked at her, confused.

"Uh…sure, if you want."

Hadn't she only just arrived for work a few hours ago? Maybe she didn't get much sleep after their long night yesterday. Still, it was a bit odd…

"Are you sure you don't need anything?" he asked, desperate for her to talk without wanting to push her too much. He knew she hated it when he fussed, but he couldn't help himself. If he kept at this much longer, though, she'd be tapping her foot and glaring at him in annoyance.

Cordelia cocked her head and gave him her 'don't be silly' look, then turned to the nearest door and opened it, disappearing into the room without another word. Angel stared at the closed door for a second, taking in everything that had just happened, then decided his next move. This was obviously some kind of female hint thing, and he needed help working it out.

Holding her breath, Cordelia stood and listened at the door, waiting for Angel's retreating footsteps to fade. She hoped she had put him off enough for her to figure out what the _hell _was going on here. Was she going insane? Had the visions finally pushed her off the edge of some proverbial precipice and into a never ending downwards spiral through hallucinations, psychopathic tendencies and finally complete loss of motor functions? Her brain was a sea of turmoil and conflicting ideas, all fighting for reign in her minds eye. She could see herself strapped to another hospital bed in the crazy ward, with no one able to help and no one to know what was wrong with her. She would not let that happen again. She couldn't.

She sighed heavily and leant back against the reassuringly solid wood of the door, clutching the handle behind her back like it was the thin thread on which she imagined her sanity was holding. Get a grip on yourself, Cor. There has to be more to this.

She silently ran through a list of options, ticking them off on her fingers as she went. First off, she was definitely awake so this was not a dream; a sharp pinch to her leg confirmed that. Maybe she just imagined the whole thing, you know, stress induced, lack of sleep, panic after being attacked by a strange little spiky animal…nah. If huge scaly demons couldn't faze her anymore, then she doubted that Queen C could be freaked like that. Okay, next option, ghosts. Not unheard of, if Dennis and his beloved mother were anything to go by. But then again, she couldn't imagine a paranoia demon occupying the same space as another mystical entity, and for something to show up now after all this time seemed highly unlikely. So that left things like poisoning…

She postponed that line of thought when she heard that eerie sound again, floating around somewhere back outside. Oh God, not again. If she was imagining this as well, then it was definitely because she was going crazy. Otherwise, there was no other way to explain it other than the fact that it was real. And if it was real, she needed answers.

Facing what must have been a demonically/mystically influenced sound, or else fully embracing insanity, she opened the door, stepping back out into the corridor and scanning her surroundings. There was no sign of Angel, a fact that could prove to be both a good and a bad thing. The laughter continued, however, and she turned in its direction, moving along the corridor until she came to the staircase leading up to the next level. There was no doubt that it was coming from up there, but for a moment she hesitated, fearing getting lost in the structurally unsound hotel building where the others might not think to look for her if something went wrong.

She realised now with regret that she had never fully explored the place, and wondered what she would find up there. She considered turning back when a child's cry broke the silence that had followed. That decided it for her, and she raced up the steps, taking two at a time. A mumble of a deep voice reached her ears, the words muddled and indecipherable, but holding an undeniable Irish lilt. The tone was forceful and harsh, sending chills up her spine even as she struggled to understand what was being said.

When she finally reached the top and rounded a corner, the scene before her rocked her to the core. The once cheerful little boy was now subdued, tears streaming down his cheeks as he cowered before a towering figure of a man, whose booming voice still held no meaning. A blow was struck, and the little boy staggered back, bravely trying to stand up to his treatment. The man thrust a large, leather bound book into the boy's hands, a golden cross printed into the cover. He pushed the boy to the floor and yelled further, his demeanour threatening more violence.

It was as much as Cordelia could take. She didn't know who this man was or what he was doing here, but she couldn't stand back and let this happen. She rushed forward in anger, heedless of the warnings the little voice in her head whispered, unconcerned for her own safety.

"No! Stop it!" she cried, aiming for the man's shoulder as she reached out to grab him and spin him around to face her. She lunged, but her hand met nothing more than air, and she plunged forward further down the hallway, coming to an abrupt stop when she realised what had happened. 

She turned, utterly bewildered, ready to scream in frustration at the top of her lungs. She swallowed down her rage when, instead of finding an empty corridor behind her, she was confronted with the upturned face of a little girl, large brown eyes searching her face for information.

Cordy stood transfixed, returning the stare. They were the sad eyes of a scared little girl, already turned bitter towards the cruel dealings of the world. Her dark brown, almost black hair flowed down her shoulders in loose ringlets, framing what should have been a beautifully sweet little face, but was instead haggard and shadowed by too many days hiding in the dark.

Before Cordelia had worked up the nerve to say anything, the little girl turned and ran; fleeing back the way Cordelia had come. After a delayed reaction, Cordelia followed, shouting 'wait!', but nonetheless losing ground. The girl disappeared around the corner, and by the time Cordelia reached the staircase, she was out of sight.

That was when she noticed the door to the room opposite her standing ajar, and as she approached, she heard soft sobbing coming from within. Entering the darkened room, almost as background noise, she could hear what sounded like intense arguing coming from the next room, and the sound of things breaking against the walls. A glass shattered next door, and the sobbing heightened, punctuated by a shudder of fear. Navigating around the bed to find the source, Cordelia found the little girl huddled in the corner of the room under a table, her legs drawn up close and hugged protectively, her head buried in her knees.

Cordelia's heart swelled as, out of nowhere, she realised that it was the shouting and fighting that the girl was hiding from. Dressed in a skirt and tights, her legs were somewhat exposed as she crouched, and for the first time Cordelia could see the rips and holes in her stockings, darkening bruises blossoming underneath. 

Another smash demanded that she make a move, as loath as she was to leave the frightened child. For some reason, she sensed a need to move on to the next room, maybe to do something about the fighting. It was like she just _knew _that she was unable to interfere right here, thinking that, like the boy and the man earlier, the little girl was no longer aware of her presence. But, dammit, she could do something about the noise.

Marching quickly out, Cordelia wrenched open the door to the next room, ready to shout out in anger and demand answers. As soon as she turned the handle, however, the noise stopped, as did the sobbing from the little girl. The door instead swung open to reveal an empty room, devoid of any shattered fragments or broken items, and with no marks or dents in the walls. Feeling strangely disappointed, she was about to leave when a sudden movement caught her attention.

Another young boy appeared from nowhere, standing up from his hiding place behind the bed. It was hard to see anything in the dim light, but Cordelia could make out the boys straw like hair, falling in thick curtains over his forehead and framing his hard eyes. A sprinkling of freckles decorated his face, helping to hide the faint smudges of dirt across his cheeks. His clothes were baggy and filthy, but mostly hidden by the blanket he had draped over his shoulders to shield him from the cold. His breath was visible as wispy tendrils, snaking into air that, to Cordelia at least, felt normal for a sunny California day.

The boy looked hungry, but his defiant air seemed to spit in the face of charity, and Cordelia held back her pity. It was clear it would not be appreciated. Cries and mumbles from what sounded like even younger children issued from behind the bed, and the boy turned to face what she guessed were brothers and sisters, still concealed behind him. The hardness disappeared from the boy's eyes, and he ducked down to tend to the pleas. 

Cordelia moved around to see for herself, but as she had expected, the boy was gone, and there was nothing there but the usual hotel décor rug. She sighed, wondering what was happening to her, but beginning to suspect that she was coming to some sort of understanding. What she found back in the corridor didn't surprise her as it might have done, and she decided to play along and see where this seemingly endless vision would take her. She was pretty sure this wasn't from the Powers, but she couldn't help wondering if she was going to get the mother of all headaches at the end of it…if there was an end.

Standing before her now in the hallway was a small black boy, his hands behind his back and his feet widely spread, a look of wary curiosity on his face. He was putting on a tough exterior for her benefit, his eyes suggesting a fiercely protective streak in him that went beyond fear. 

Cordelia wanted to ask him what he was hiding behind his back, when another tiny head poked its way around the boy's legs to take a peek at her. The soft brown eyes that studied Cordelia shyly belonged to a small black toddler of a girl, her tight curls reaching out endearingly to give her a fluffy appearance. She clutched at the clothing of her protector, not daring to move any further.

Cordelia smiled at the sight, crouching down to their level. Only then could she really see the fear in their eyes, hardened into courage by the simple need to survive. The boy seemed matured beyond his years from a life of living in the streets, no doubt a run away from some children's home or shelter. He stared at Cordelia coldly and raised his little fists at her, daring her to come closer and try to touch them. Her heart twisted at the thought of his deeply embedded mistrust and she backed away, reluctant to cause any more pain. 

Angry at whatever force that was forcing her to see all this, her vision blurred, tears welling up in her eyes. She blinked them away hastily, only to find that the brief movement had washed away the two children with the tears, as if they were no more substantial than a mirage. She reached out to the place they had stood, needing to feel for herself to be convinced that they weren't real. All the hurt and the pain she had seen had been real enough, and she was half in denial that these kids didn't exist. 

Hoping to hear something more so that she'd have the opportunity to help, she stood rigid, listening for the laughter, the cries, or even the sobbing, anything that would show her the way. But now, strangely, there was only silence. At first, she assumed it to be the quiet of an empty hotel, something natural that she should expect to hear. But, when she concentrated on it, she realised it felt different somehow, it felt hushed, enforced. The quiet of something that doesn't want to be heard. Or someone.

A prickle ran cold fingers down the back of her neck, and she felt as though she was being watched. It could only mean one thing. Turning slowly for fear of what was to come, she came face to face, if that was the term, with another little white boy, this time dressed immaculately from head to toe, not a hair out of place or a speck of dirt to be seen. 

Cordelia held her breath, suddenly deciding that she didn't want to play anymore, a tear slipping involuntarily down her cheek. The boy smiled up at her warmly, his blue eyes sparkling behind his glasses. There was no bitterness here, just an innocence that had seemed lost in the others, for one reason or another. Still, in keeping with the running theme, the pureness was tainted, and she could sense it.

The boy continued to gaze openly at her, something akin to wonder in his eyes. Cordelia felt ashamed of her shuddering breaths and bright eyes, and continued to try to tell herself that none of this was real. Nevertheless, the image before her continued to play out, and the little boy brought out an arm from where they were both clasped behind his back, holding his hand out to her to be taken.

She found herself unable to resist and slowly reached down, wanting nothing more than to touch once and for all and discover just how real all of this was. Her fingers came within inches of the tiny offered hand and she stopped, her arm suspended before her. Why she couldn't bring herself to make contact, she didn't know, but she realised too late that it would cost her dearly. 

The little boy's smile faltered, and he reclaimed his hand, rejection and disappointment written on his face. He backed away, embarrassment reddening his cheeks, so mortified that he could no longer meet Cordelia's eyes. She wanted so much to take it back, to step forward and undo what had happened, but she realised in dismay that it wasn't her choice to make. In more ways than one, the damage had already been done. 

She couldn't move an inch, but was forced to watch the scene playing out before her, however much she wanted to intervene. A haunting voice that only the boy could understand startled terror into him and he ran, searching for escape with the hysteria of one who knows the inevitable will come, no matter what you do. As soon as he had turned the corner, Cordelia found herself chasing his route, suddenly released from her paralysis.

She didn't need to turn the corner to know what she would find. That way laid the staircase to the next floor, and there was plenty of room underneath. Whimpering reached her ears, muffled by the barrier she already knew was there.

She couldn't do this, it was breaking her heart. Instead of following the way put out for her, she stopped, refusing to turn the corner and see what she knew was there.

"Why are you doing this to me?!" she cried out, her frustration finally getting the better of her. 

She had know idea who 'you' was, or if there even was one, but the unfairness of the situation seemed unnecessarily cruel to be a coincidence. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing the images to leave, but when she opened them again, still more children looked up at her. 

This time, a blonde haired girl pouted at her, and behind, two more children approached, and red haired girl and a dark haired boy, both of which looked uncannily familiar to her in a way that the others had not at first. She realised that she had known these children, had pictures of them to remind her if she forgot. 

"W-willow? Xander?"

It was too much. She couldn't bare any more, she had to get away. With that thought, she turned to run, taking the corner too fast and slipping yet again on the blasted carpet of doom. Quivering on the floor, she began to feel dizzy, the floor spinning beneath her and drawing her into panic. She looked up through tear soaked hair to find, standing in the stairwell, all of the children she had seen, their adult selves behind them. 

There was Angel, Faith, Lindsey, Gunn and his sister, Wesley, Buffy, Willow and Xander, not to mention a few others from her past that insisted on adding to her torment. All at once she could see the pain and suffering that the group represented, all from a space of the few short years of young childhood life. She offered silent prayer that this would be the last, that she wouldn't have to go on to stage two where only more badness could lie in wait.

The faces of the people she knew looked down on her, their expressions indifferent ad eyes vacant. They weren't real, they had no souls. All the life in them was gone, and only the hurt was showing. She realised now that they didn't let it rule them, the real ones, that is. They were different, better. She focused hard at the phantoms and willed herself to concentrate, to come back to the real world where the good coexisted with the bad, where the _whole _of these people was. 

As she watched, the figures began to fade and she saw a fleeting spark of something she recognised in each return to their eyes, if only for a moment. Angel's beautiful soul was there, as was Gunn's compassion despite adversity. And just before she closed her eyes again, Wesley smiled at her.

                                                *            *            *

She was almost afraid to open them. What if they were still there? What if it was just a trick and the figures hadn't faded, but only returned to taunt her more? There was only one way to find out. 

Cautiously she cracked open one eyelid, then the other, and in a sudden rush of realisation, the truth hit her. She wasn't on the floor in the corridor, in fact, she wasn't even in the corridor at all. She was standing in her chosen room; her back leant on the door and her hand clutching the handle so hard that it was in danger of snapping off all together.

She gasped involuntarily, relieved and confused all at once, and not sure if she had wanted to find that it had all been some weird mind trip or not. 

Approaching footsteps and a light rap on the door made her prick up her ears, startling her at the memory of what had just happened. No, not again…

"No! Go away!" she half screamed, running from the door and sinking onto the bed, determined not to pay attention. Wesley's soft voice snapped her out of it, though, and she sat bolt upright, realising what she had just said.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you", came the reply, muffled by the door. "I'll go if you want, I can come back later…"

"NO! I mean, no, it's okay. I'm sorry, Wesley, come in."

The door opened tentatively and Wesley stepped in, clearly unsure of himself after her outburst. She cursed her swift tongue as he hovered, searching for the right words. He dithered and stuttered, and Cordelia had to force back tears at the sight, wondering how she was ever going to be able to look these people in the eye anymore.

"Angel said that you, uh, seemed a little…upset, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'm really sorry about what happened and I promise you it won't happen again. Just…please don't be mad."

He fidgeted, waiting for a response, probably expecting to be barked at.

"Oh Wesley", she cried, breaking down, "I'm not mad at you!" She brought her hands to her face and sobbed, finally throwing discretion to the wind. He was by her side in an instant, trying his best to comfort her and asking what was wrong. When she had finally worked up the breath to answer, she looked up at him and said,

"It's a long story. Do you have five hours?"

To be continued… 

(I had to assume a couple of things here, in case you were wondering. Firstly, that Cordelia knew about the events of 'I've got you under my skin', and, secondly, that she would have known Xander and Willow in school. If this is wrong, please let me know so I can change it a bit. Thanx! :)


	6. Haunted

Disclaimer: If _Angel _and the characters used here were mine, you'd be seeing this story on your TV screen instead of on your computer screen, get it?

Feedback: Thanks to all you guys who have reviewed so far, and know that you rock. I look forward to reading your reactions to every chapter, and I love to see how you think the story is developing. I'm glad you liked the last one, it was hard to write. It was also hard to live up to, which is why this one has taken so long. I hope it doesn't disappoint!

Okay, so I lied, Buffy and co did appear in this fic last time, but that's as far as it goes. I'm being honest this time. Anyway, read on and enjoy! :)

CHAPTER 6.

As much as Cordelia had needed the chance to describe what had happened to someone, she found that she couldn't bring herself to be entirely truthful for fear of the consequences. Experiencing someone else's most intimate and private memories seemed to her to be invasive at best, and she was loath to reopen old wounds and cause needless embarrassment for her friends. These things she had seen had never before been discussed in the open, with her at least, so if each felt it important to keep them to themselves, she would leave it that way. Besides, she didn't think she would be able to bare the awkwardness.

Wesley had been patient with her, sitting beside her in silence whilst she slowly explained the situation, in her own time and in her own words. She told him that she had seen visions of many children and their suffering, and that it had left her shaky. When he asked with concern if this was like any other vision, if the Powers wanted them to do something to help, she simply said that the incidents had already taken place; they were in the past. He had seemed disappointed at that, commenting that it was too late, and she couldn't help but silently add that it was never too late.

An indeterminable amount of time had passed, and still, they remained where they had been since she had begun her account. To his credit, Wesley seemed to know when he was needed, and stayed with her whilst she composed herself, drawing comfort from his presence. She realised that Angel was probably worrying about what they were doing up there, and he probably wouldn't take much longer before he came to break up the intense argument he imagined they were having right now.

Sniffing back the last of her sobs and drying the tears with her sleeve, she found the strength to shuffle back upright, suddenly feeling a little silly after crying into Wesley's shirt. He seemed to understand, though, and didn't comment. 

"I think I'm alright now", she informed him, a touch of red colouring her cheeks at the thought of what she must look like to him, all snively and running mascara. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, his way of telling her he didn't mind staying longer if she wasn't up to it. She didn't have to put on a brave face for him, and he hoped she knew that.

"I'm gonna go clean up."

She dejectedly picked herself up from the bed and shuffled into the en suite bathroom with a meek air about her that worried Wes more than the story she had told him. He only let his frown show when she clicked the door shut, the sound of running water masking her movements. She was more shaken than he thought he had ever seen her before, and he got the feeling she was hiding something. It wasn't like she was new to the emotions that came with the visions, she'd seen pain and suffering before. But she kept insisting that this was nothing like anything before it, and he too had doubts about the visions origin. There was more to it than was meeting the eye.

He sat on the bed mulling over everything Cordelia had said, eventually losing himself in his thoughts. 

Cordelia let the misty steam of the hot water fill the little room as she took deep, calming breaths. She regarded the face in the mirror looking back at her with pity, and wondered how the poor girl was going to be able to pull of the usual Cordelia indifference in front of the others when she went back downstairs. She didn't want them to fuss over her, but this face just cried 'mother me'. It was a good thing she knew the magic of make up.

Washing away the anguished teary look with the rest of the mess, she began carefully reapplying the odd bit her everyday 'unrockable' face with the odd couple of tools she always carried around with her. She may have grown as a person, but when it came to appearance, good old Cordelia Chase could still be as shallow as ever. Only now did she realise the advantages.

However much she scrubbed and painted, though, she could do nothing about her eyes. They were haunted. They were the same eyes that stared back at her after her run in with Vocah, when she had been put in a never ending vision and Wesley had been blown away with their old office block. They reflected the pain she had seen in both instances, something that she could learn to hide. She had adjusted last time, and she could do it again, it was just that this particular episode hit a little too close to home.  

She sighed. This was going to be harder than she thought. Still, she couldn't cower in here forever, and she needed closure. The guys were there to help, and they'd get to the bottom of this together. She hoped.

Giving her hands one more wring in the soothingly hot suds in the basin, she emptied it out and listened to the gurgle of the plug hole whilst she gathered her wits. Feeling at least semi-capable of facing the group, she looked back up at her reflection for a last check. This time, two pairs of eyes stared back at her.

She jumped but suppressed a screech, recognising the little blue-eyed boy that stared back at her with those damnably expressive blue eyes of his. Silent tears ran down his cheeks as he watched her, pleading and longing clear on his face. She saw the reflection flinch as she whirled round to face him, only to be greeted by empty space. Figures.

She blew out an exploding breath and sagged against the sink, turning her eyes up. She could feel the hot tears threatening again, but she refused them release, letting her anger strengthen her instead. If whatever this was thought it could keep teasing her like this and get to her, she was going to show it a thing or two. She didn't need reminding, she had gotten enough insight into everyone's past to last her a lifetime. This was going to end. Now.

She set her jaw and opened the door, snapping Wesley out of his muse. He rose to greet her, and reassuring smile on his face. 

"It just happened again", she said, a cold edge to her voice that she didn't mean to let out.

His smile dropped.

"We'd better find Angel", was all he said, putting out an arm to beckon her towards the door. He was expecting her to come out of there with a huge smile for him, putting in that tough exterior that would shield her from the world. But to instead find her shaken from yet another episode and with her tone like it was, it was clear that she was scared. And so was he.

A light scratching sound at the door made Wesley stop, and Cordelia looked at him.

"You hear it too?" she asked, sounding relieved. 

He moved forward and snatched the door open, only to find the creature sat on the threshold, a look of agitation in its eyes. A moment later, Angel ran round the corner, slowing to a stop when he saw Wesley and Cordelia's head looking towards him accusingly.

"I thought you were going to watch it!" Wesley chided, the irritation in his voice not really heartfelt.

Angel straightened up to his full height, a defensive attitude in his stance.

"I tried, but it wouldn't stay put. As soon as you left it started squeaking and running around, so I shut it away. But then it got out…"

Wesley rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looked down at the creature with a raised eyebrow, and it chirped at him sheepishly, tugging at his leg for reassurance. Pricking its ears, it turned slightly to give Cordelia a suspicious once over, and she returned it with a wary glare. Seeming to come to a mutual understanding, the pair disengaged and Cordelia stepped past, the creature occupying itself with Wesley's shoelaces.

"What's been going on up here, anyway?" Angel asked them, "You've been up here for ages. Is everything sorted out?"

"There never was anything to sort out, Angel", Cordelia returned with a pointed glance, "but there's something I think you need to hear…"

                                                            *            *            *

Angel had heard some whoppers in his time, but this one just about took the biscuit. As far as unexplained, irrational and downright creepy went, Cordelia's experience was the reigning champion, and he was immediately both thankful that it wasn't him and sorry that Cordelia had to go through it. Of course, if he had known the whole truth…

Having found Cordelia's hand still in need of a bandage, he and Wesley had got to work taking care of it for her, all the time chiding her for not taking care of herself properly. The wound was now inflamed and angry, and in danger of infection. After a suggestion that she take a brief visit to the emergency room, and after a heated refusal on Cordelia's part, Wesley had made a suggestion.

It seemed so obvious now, but something that Cordelia hadn't considered before. Angel had wanted her to go to the hospital to get it checked out, since it was an animal bite. And she had refused, saying that whatever they found might be unexplainable, as in the strange pattern of puncture wounds and mystical germs and such. The real reason she hadn't wanted to go, of course, was that she didn't want to be left alone in case of yet another repeated performance, but she wouldn't admit to that. Anyway, from her argument, Wesley had made the connection, suggesting that they might also find some kind of undiscovered poison in her system, which could also be causing the visions.

He'd apologised for the slow uptake on account of his lack of sleep, but gotten straight to work looking up the symptoms and their possible sources, hoping for a connection to the creature and then, an answer. Oh, and an antidote wouldn't have been too bad, either.

Gunn still wasn't picking up his phone, so Angel left a message asking him to make a trip to the rare bookstore for more information that would hopefully help considerably. As expected, the books were proving useless, again, and failing to live up to their reputation. Right now, they weren't worth the paper they were written on, and Cordelia wondered why they had all had such faith in them anyway.

They'd spent the best part of the afternoon reading, all of them crammed in the office on Cordelia's insistence that the creature would be better hidden that way, it being unwilling to leave Wesley's side. That, and she didn't want to be left alone in the lobby. 

So, with them all sat around the desk, books spread out before them, they researched, and researched…and researched, until Cordelia thought her brain would shrivel. After a while, she forgot to pretend to turn her pages, instead dwelling on what she had seen. After a while, she noticed that the creature, sat comfortably on Angel's shoulders to get the best view, was watching her intently. Its black eyes sparkled at her, the occasional whisker twitch the only indication that it was alive at all. The guys remained unconcerned, absorbed in their books.

Then a movement caught her eye. In the corner of the room, a small figure moved, coming forward out of the shadows and passing behind Angel's chair. The mischievous little boy had a bruise on his face now, spreading around his left eye and stealing all of the mirth from his countenance. He watched her as he walked by, a solemn look in his brown eyes, and then disappeared from view.

Cordelia remained frozen, eyes wide and breath hitched, as though she dare not look around further. Deciding to remain quiet and hope for the best, she looked at the others, hoping that they hadn't noticed her sudden shock. If Angel could smell her fear, he didn't show it, and both men remained completely oblivious of what had just happened. She switched her gaze to Angel again, finding her eyes inexplicably drawn to the creature. It was still watching her ominously, its endearing face hardened by concentration. She swallowed.

Wesley moved, closing his book with a sigh and glancing at his watch before reaching for another. 

"Gunn not called yet?" he asked, a tired pinch to his words.

Angel shook his head but didn't look up, continuing with the reading as though his life depended on it. Wesley spared a disappointed frown, and then got back to his research. Cordelia just sat there, feeling increasingly uncomfortable under the creature's scrutiny. As she stared back, it flicked its eyes quickly to the window in the doorway, and Cordelia turned slightly to follow its gaze.

With a sharp chill of understanding, she saw the little black boy walk past behind the counter, the little girl trailing behind with her hand in his. They both stared at her as they went, the flinty determination of the boy boring into her soul. When they were gone, she snapped her attention back to the creature, and it gave her a knowing look. 

That was the last straw. She was freaked. She was going to say something before she went crazy. As it turned out, she didn't have to.

Wesley had looked up from his book and seen the exchange, anxious concern settling on his features.

"Cordelia", he half whispered, "is it happening again?"

She nodded fearfully and swallowed. "And just now…"

Angel looked up when she looked in his direction, moving forward to reassure her. The creature slid from its perch and jumped onto the desk, moving to Wesley's side. 

"It saw it too", Cordelia informed them, and all eyes were turned to the creature. Seemingly done with the creepy thing, the creature gazed at them all innocently and chirped, somewhat less enthusiastically than it usually did. Then it sneezed. Looking back up, it went quiet, seeking comfort in Wesley's lap.

Everyone looked at each other, and then Wesley shook his head.

"This just gets more and more complicated", he said with a sigh, rubbing at the bridge of his nose, frustration and exhaustion taking their toll.

Cordelia stared at her hands for a moment, trying to make the trembling stop. She didn't know why this was affecting her so much. It wasn't like she was scared, just…horrified. Touched didn't seem to cover it, nor did sympathetic. The fact that she couldn't help annoyed her, as did the way in which this was happening. It had no purpose. Maybe she was supposed to see a message in all this, but was the scaring and the heart wrenching really necessary? She guessed she was just having a hard time dealing with the fact that there was such hurt in the world where there shouldn't be, and that her friends were not exceptions.

"Can we go outside? I need some fresh air, and this reading stuff is driving me nuts."

Her suggestion seemed to go down well, and even though they were all anxious to help find an ending to Cordelia's visions, they were pleased to be able to escape the seemingly futile search for a little while.

Stepping out into the courtyard, the crisp evening air revived her, a slight breeze ruffling through her sticky hair and cooling her clammy skin. She felt a hundred times better, as though the movement of the air was enough to keep the ghostly apparitions at bay. Sitting down on the bench next to Wesley, she watched Angel as he paced around, kicking distractedly at the crunchy dead leaves that stirred past, on their way to join the ever growing gathering of their fellows piled up in the corners.

The slowly dimming dusk light had encouraged the jasmine blooms to open, their sweet scent hanging heavily in the air and lulling the senses. Silvery grey moths fluttered gently around their heads, tragically drawn to the promise of better things emitted by the soft glow of the outdoor lighting. They hung around like suspended snow flakes, miniature showers of dust sprinkling through the rays of light every time they collided with the plastic bulb guard in a misguided attempt to reach the source within.

The creature seemed fascinated by them, but unlike its earlier attempts, seemed uninterested in trying to eat the shrubbery, simply scampering under the bench and sitting there. Cordelia figured it had probably just eaten too much already.

Cordelia breathed the air in deeply, finding the perfume smell of the flowers soothing. In fact, it was probably a little too relaxing, and Cordelia soon wondered if bringing everyone out here to revive them was the genius plan it had first seemed. Having finally surrendered his mind to its drowsy whims, Wesley began to sag next to her, his head dipping repeatedly as he struggled with the need to sleep and the need to balance.      

Smiling to herself but not having the heart to snark at him for leaning on her, Cordelia guided his head to her shoulder and sighed. Just a little while longer, and then she'd shake him, and they'd all go back inside to the books…

                                                            *            *            *

In the steadily falling darkness of the lobby, a slim, dark figure dropped the rope down from the ceiling, listening for the quiet * _click _* it made as the strengthened end connected with the marble of the floor. Not too loud, no one will have heard.

Only a hushed * _zziiippp _* told of the figure's descent, sliding with graceful ease down the makeshift ladder to a poised cat-like position on the floor. Gloved hands and the thick black cat suit meant that rope burn was not an issue, as well as providing adequate camouflage if the situation required it. And no disguise would be complete without the mask, just in case. 

Flinging a loose cotton bag over a shoulder, the figure straightened, scanning for a sign or a clue, and expertly pinpointing the three people in question, just visible through the courtyard doors. They seemed unaware. Just how it should be, for now. 

Then, the perfectly executed plan was spoiled. 

The phone rang.

The vampire made a move for the door, and the figure back flipped away, using the darkness as an advantage. Hopefully, the scent would be hidden just long enough, masked by previous exposure. Crouching in the shadows behind the furniture, the figure watched as the three emerged, the vampire heading for the phone, and waited.

It was almost time.

To be continued…  


	7. Not of the good

Disclaimer: A girl can dream, can't she? But for the sake of all that is legal and proper, not mine, don't sue.

Feedback: Thanks for reviewing, you guys, it's nice to know that some people are still reading this! I really appreciate your comments, especially when I've written a chapter that I feel is a little lacking but you guys write back to tell me what you think. It's helpful to know which ones you like so I can steer the writing in to the good stuff.

Okay, I know what you're thinking, but please don't moan at me, I'm really a very nice person. You know what real life is like, and this week's been hell, so that's my excuse. And has anyone else ever sat down to write and then spent the next two and a half hours staring at a blank screen? No? Oh well, just me then. I'm not a freak, honest.

CHAPTER 7.

The insistent shrill of the reception phone pierced the calm mood that had fallen in the courtyard, shaking everyone from the pleasant haze of inertia. The creature immediately pricked its ears to the unfamiliar sound, its animal senses even more finely tuned than Angel's. He heard the sound a fraction of a second later, and had already moved for the source by the time the two humans had realised what was happening.

Wesley jerked to attention with an incoherent mumble, only to be dragged by the arm from his seat. 

"It's probably Gunn at last", Cordelia told him as she pulled, being sure not to be too rough this time, under the watchful eye of the creature. 

The statement was more as an assurance for herself than anything, hoping that the arrival of their absent friend and the accompanying new research material would finally yield some results. Also, the distraction from more reading was readily welcome.

Wesley followed her obediently inside, stifling a yawn and trying not to trip in sleep-induced semi-blindness. Would this day never end? What he wouldn't give for a bed and the chance to use it right now…

Entering the ever-darkening hotel behind an uncharacteristically eager Angel, Cordelia moved to the nearest stool within earshot of the conversation whilst Wesley held the door open for the shortest of the group. The little creature took its time getting in, with none of the excitable mannerisms Wes had become accustomed to. In fact, it seemed a bit down. It stopped at his feet and looked up at him, a slight dullness in its eyes that immediately made him want to scoop it up from the floor. It looked as though it needed cheering up a bit.

Frowning a little as he pondered this new development, Wesley carried the creature with him and joined the others at the desk. Angel was engaged mid-conversation with whoever it was on the other end, his polite and business-like 'yes', 'no', 'I understand' contributions revealing to Wesley's sinking heart that the person he was addressing probably was not Gunn. Cordelia was listening intently, obviously frustrated that, no matter how much she strained, all she could hear was a one sided string of uninformative formalities.

The crease that was gradually deepening on Angel's forehead did nothing to sooth her, either. Putting the handset down on the cradle with a final 'yes, thank you', Angel turned to face Cordelia and Wes with an expression that was nothing short of foreboding. When he hesitated before relaying the news, Cordelia' s face became positively thunderous.

"What?!" she almost screamed, unable to contain her desperate curiosity any longer.

Angel sighed.

"That was Mr. Lovelle. He wanted to know when would be a good time to come in and write us a cheque…"

"But…" Cordelia began, guessing where this was going.

"Apparently, his wife died two years ago, and he didn't much appreciate the 'personal question' when I asked."

"Oookaaay…this is not of the good." Great one Cor, way to state the obvious.

A tense silence fell, everyone imagining the worst when it came to working out what this little revelation could mean. Even the creature seemed to notice the anxiety, copying Angel by bringing up a furry paw to rub at its chin.

Wesley opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, converting it into a puzzled frown instead when he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. Turning and pointing into the shadows across from them, he said,

"Angel, what's that?"

A long, dark rope hung from the ceiling not far from them, the top end wrapped around a rafter near the skylight. It was so out of place and unexpected that it took a few moments for the guys to comprehend its existence. Angel tensed, suddenly recognising the different scent in the air, and the creature copied, apparently sensing his unease.

Cordelia had just about managed to form the words 'rope', 'open window' and 'intruder' in her mind when it occurred to her that something was very wrong. On reflection, it would probably have been wise at that point to remain calm and fight off the feeling of fear that threatened to panic her, but instead, she did what any other surprised person would have done.

"Oh my God", she said.

Whether that little outburst was the trigger in itself, warning the intruder of their presence and knowledge of the break-in, or whether the attack would have commenced anyway, Cordelia didn't know. Frankly, she didn't have much time to think about it. Before she could draw another breath, a figure sprang out of the darkness and launched straight for Angel, kicking him down with outstretched feet.

He was knocked backwards over the counter, the figure landing perfectly balanced where he had once stood, despite the bold move. Cordelia screamed.

                                                *          *          *

The figure had watched patiently as the three thieves had entered the lobby, ignoring the vampire's conversation over the infuriatingly loud telephone, responsible for attracting them back into the room in the first place. It was only when the last of the group, a rather tired looking tall man, had stopped at the door that the figure's interest had really been stirred. There it was, trotting in from the courtyard, obviously already feeling the effects of its forced exposure to the world. 

For a moment, the figure wondered if perhaps it was already too late, that too much time had been allowed to pass. But all such thoughts were pushed aside as the need to focus reasserted itself. If nothing else, the kidnappers must not be allowed to continue with their plan, whatever it might be. The man further restrained the target, picking it up and preventing its escape. Whether or not he was some kind of demon that was immune from the creature's effects, it was unclear, but it was doubtful that everything was as it seemed. Obviously, extra care needed to be taken. 

As it turned out, waiting for just the right opportunity was not an option. Perhaps by some kind of demonic perception not unlike the vampire's, the man had noticed the means of entrance and alerted the others, demanding that action be taken. And the figure was only too happy to oblige.

                                                *          *          *

Ignoring Cordelia's scream of panic, the black clad figure vaulted up onto the counter, pulling a stake from a conveniently well-stocked belt. This intruder had come prepared, and was leaving little time to think up a plan.

Wesley stood transfixed as he realised what the figure was planning to do, ready to bear down on Angel and neutralise the threat. He had to act fast.

With the creature still attached securely to the back of his shirt, Wesley shot forward, pulling the figure's legs away and creating a distraction just long enough for Angel to make a reappearance. Cordelia quickly caught on and helped him out, and they succeeded in dragging the figure to the floor before any other moves could be performed.

"You're human!" Angel exclaimed with some surprise as he got back to his feet, still too shocked that he was caught off guard to be angry. He chastised himself for not having noticed the fresh scent earlier and realised, with no small amount of regret, that this meant killing was off the agenda. The figure stilled in its struggles as Angel emerged.

"Yeah? Well guess what? I'm also a woman too."

Flipping back too her feet whilst knocking her attackers backward, the self proclaimed woman launched forward, supplying Cordelia and Wesley with a couple of well-placed kicks to keep them back. 

Angel rushed at her and she turned to face him, bringing up her stake again for the kill. 

"I know what you are, vampire", she spat, eyeing him as he circled, looking for an opening. 

Cordelia, Wesley and the creature scrambled away from the brewing fight, heading for the cabinet in the hope of successfully outnumbering the intruder with weapons. The woman spotted their move and intention just as Angel chose his moment, diving for her arms in an attempt to restrain her.

She dodged, but the stake was knocked from her hands, clattering to the floor and rolling out of reach. Angel turned for her again, and she sprang backwards, bringing round a heel to slam in his face. Then she ran, heading straight for Wesley as he pulled a crossbow out on her, all the time hoping that he wouldn't have to use it.

Cordelia saw her coming for interception and shouted a warning…too late. The woman threw a mean punch, knocking him backward as she ripped the creature from its mooring. It gave a high-pitched squeal and thrashed, transforming in an instant to sprout viciously sharp spines all over its body. Her gloved hands were protected from the initial onslaught, but the leather was not thick enough to ward off needle-like teeth as the creature clamped down hard on her hand.

She shrieked and the creature propelled itself from her clutches, scurrying for safety in the shadows of the furniture. With no time to nurse the injury, the woman spun round in time to deflect a blow from Cordelia and her newly acquired club thingy. She easily pushed her back, but was all too aware of the charging vampire making his way towards her. It was time to end the charade.

Staggering back to his feet, Wesley watched in horror as the cat-suited female pulled two pistols from hidden holsters at her side, training them both on Cordelia with deadly accuracy. Angel stopped in his tracks, bringing up his hands in a gesture of surrender and praying that nothing would happen.    

Flat on her back on the floor, all Cordelia could do was stare up helplessly as the figure silently threatened her, gesturing for her to stay down. A glance at Angel confirmed that she should do as she was told, and she lay still, struggling to keep her breathing under control.

The woman backed off, keeping the handguns high and making sure all three of her opponents were in her sights. She gave Wesley a sharp nod, and he reluctantly lowered his crossbow to the floor, bringing his hands up again in compliance. 

"Just one move, vampire, and it'll be curtains for these two." 

Angel nodded his understanding, almost relieved by the thought that if she was going to kill anyone, she would have done it by now. Besides, she needed them alive to keep him back, or else there would be nothing to stop him charging her again. After all, guns didn't frighten him. Well, maybe just a little bit.

His friends, on the other hand, were more than a little scared, so much so that Cordelia had begun to tremble on the floor, and Wesley had turned a shade or two paler. Angel figured that one bullet in the gut was more than enough for one person. Luckily for them, the woman didn't have Angel's nose for fear, and they covered it quite well, their grim expressions threatening dire consequences if a trigger was pulled on the other.

Angel decided it was up to him to amend the situation, before it got out of hand.

"I know you", he said, inching round. "You're Mrs. Lovelle, or should I say, the woman who claimed to be Mrs. Lovelle not long ago. I can smell you."

The woman paused slightly and narrowed her eyes, finally bringing up a hand, pistol and all, to rip off the mask she'd been wearing. Long brown hair fell over her shoulders and she smiled mirthlessly, throwing the cloth away. 

"I suppose I won't be needing that anymore, then. I always did hate it. Gets too stuffy."

Her expression hardened again as she focused, her eyes flicking to the stake lying unused on the floor. Angel didn't miss it, and he addressed her once more, hoping to distract her further.

"What do you want?" he asked, genuinely interested in getting an answer and sure that there had been some sort of misunderstanding. The woman glared, obviously considering the answer to be all too obvious.

"I should ask you the same thing, vampiric abductor. To which cult do you belong? You and your little human minions are mistaken if you thought that the Guardians would just stand by and allow you to continue. Did you think we wouldn't find you, evil ones?"

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second. Evil? I think you've got the wrong guys. We're on the other side."

"You cannot trick me, fool. I know your kind. Deceit and trickery run in your undead veins as sure as blood runs in mine. Not that I'll give you a chance to find out, bloodsucker."

The woman turned her head for a second to scan beneath the chairs she had made her way towards. Angel used the opportunity to mouth 'evil?' to Wesley, but he just shrugged. Cordelia shuffled backwards slightly, nearing the counter and the temporary bullet shelter it might provide at the crucial moment. She wasn't going to give Lara here any chances.

Spotting what it was she was looking for, the woman moved away further, careful to divide her time between watching where she was going and keeping an eye on the others. The creature was curled into a tight ball in the corner under a table, pulling itself as far away from the nasty human as possible. It hissed as she approached, warning her not to dare sticking another hand towards it, or else. This didn't seem to deter the woman, though, and she crouched opposite it, all the time checking for movement on the other side of the lobby.

"Come out, _narchie_", she coaxed gently, "it is not yet time. I have come to take you back, do not be afraid."

The creature perked its head up at her words, and its once hedgehog like appearance slid away again. Cautiously crawling out from the safety of its hiding place, the creature stood in front of the new human, looking into her eyes and scanning for evil. The woman stared right back, unmoving, waiting for it to satisfy itself and deem her well meaning. It came to its decision, chirping an all clear to the others that seemed to go unheard. For some reason, its other human friends were still afraid of this female, despite her lack of weapon or apparent aggression. Unless you counted the two funny looking shiny stick things, that didn't really look very scary at all. Maybe it was just some sort of human territorial thing, in which case, it was best not to interfere.

The creature stood before her, all fear gone, and the woman stood back to full height, turning her attention back to the problem at hand. 

"Get up", she ordered to Cordelia, approaching the group. She flicked her wrist and waved her gun, ushering her and Wesley towards the office. "You too", she told Angel, satisfied when he grudgingly obeyed.

She wasn't usually in the business of killing people, evil or not, and she felt uncomfortable about attempting another scuffle with the vampire. If she made a move for the stake, he'd defend himself regardless of his previous reservations, and he was stronger than she was. She hadn't come here with the intention of fighting, after all. She was better suited to stealth than battle. 

The creature followed as she herded the group into the office where she could shut them in, hopefully holding them long enough for her to make her escape without being tailed. As they entered and she neared the door, she stooped to scoop up the creature in one of her arms.

Wesley watched as the woman prepared to make off with her prize, wondering why the creature was not resisting. It looked at him slightly confused, but did not complain when the woman lifted it from the floor. This woman seemed to have all the answers to their questions and, with an accompanying pang of fear, was about to disappear into the night with _his _creature, not to mention the chance of finding an antidote for Cordelia. He didn't want that to happen.

The woman reached for the door to shut them in, and he found himself stepping forward, all thoughts of bullets forgotten.

"No", he said as the woman backed off, a sudden flare of fear on her features at his surprised move. She clutched her gun, aiming it high, but he did not back down.

She pulled the trigger.

Angel dived forward, pushing Wesley to the side, only to be rewarded with a sharp pain ripping through his chest. He looked down at the small wound, seeping blood, and when he brought his head back up, glowing yellow eyes glared back.

"That hurt", he growled, unable to keep his anger and his demon back now that the woman had decided to up the stakes. He lunged forward, catching her off guard, and smacked the gun from her hand, reaching down and seizing the other where it was tucked back into its holster. He flung it away as far as he could and concentrated on the woman, now struggling in his grasp and attempting to claw at his face with her fingers. The creature jumped down from her shoulder and ran into the office, hiding behind Wesley's legs and peering around the side.

Cordelia looked on with a smile of triumph as Angel wrestled the woman to the ground, pinning her arms at her sides to avoid any more surprises and snarling at her when she tried to thrash and scream. 

"You know, it's usually considered rude for people to break into other people's homes and try to shoot their friends and kidnap their pets." The woman stilled and fell silent, the menacing tone to his voice convincing her that it was perhaps not the best course of action in her situation. "Now, I think you'd better explain yourself, and fast."

The woman swallowed but kept her mouth shut, challenging him with her eyes. Angel decided that, if she truly believed him to be evil, as she claimed, her cause must mean a great deal to her if she was refusing to tell him anything. He could sense her fear, but their was also something more that told him he would get nothing from her like this. Her determination was set.

Cordelia let go Wesley's hand, having stood squeezing it for all she was worth only a few moments ago, and gave him a flicker of a smile before she moved over to where Angel and his prey were squashed. Bitter vengeance fuelled her courage again as she approached, their near death experience not forgotten. She regarded the woman on the floor coldly.

"You need some help there Angel? 'Cause if she doesn't want to talk, I know a few things about Chinese burns that can be very persuasive…"

Angel smiled at her attempt at humour, but detected the note of resignation in her voice. She knew as well as he did that they couldn't do anything to this woman, no matter what her intentions. She was human, after all, and if scare tactics wouldn't yield results, the only other option was to come clean and hope that she would too. If she thought that they were evil, then continuing like this was not going to help matters.

He sank back on his haunches and changed his face back, noticing the confused look on the woman's face and the hitch in her breath. She must have honestly thought she was going to die, and was utterly prepared for it. That scared Angel more than anything else she could have done. What was so important that she was willing to die to protect its secret? He realised with a touch of dread that he may wish he never asked soon enough.

"I don't understand…" the woman began, looking between him and Cordelia's cross-armed stance towering over her. She didn't get to finish the sentence.

The lobby doors burst open and several men with machine guns ran in, quickly surrounding the group and forcing Wesley and Cordelia into the open. Another couple pushed the nozzles of their guns under Angel's chin and he raised his hands, rising slowly from the woman trapped beneath him. He looked down at her throughout, but her expression remained stony, and she scooted out from under him, brushing herself down as she stood. 

"It's okay, guys, I'm alright", she called, addressing the small army of well armed men. Angel had his hands handcuffed behind his back and he was poked and prodded into the centre of the lobby with the others, facing the doors as they opened.

A large middle-aged man stepped through the door, closely followed by two more guards, a badly beaten Gunn between them. Dried blood covered his face from a large cut on the side of his head, and he sagged slightly between the men holding him, his eyes down. 

"Oh God, Gunn!" Cordelia shouted, bringing a hand to her mouth.

He looked up at the sound of her voice and smiled weakly at them, none of the feeling behind it.

"Hey, don't worry about me, guys, I'm cool." He pulled a little at the guard on his left and scowled at him, letting him know that he didn't appreciate the tight grip. The guard delivered a sharp nudge in response, his elbow demanding silence. Gunn winced and complied.

The older man stepped forward, slowly making his way down the steps to the rest of the group. Silvery grey mottled his still thick hair, lending his appearance a grandeur that was radiated by his presence. He was built like a mountain, his chiselled features giving his face a hard and steely look of superiority that seemed to quell the other men into unquestioning obedience and loyalty. One look from those cold eyes told why. This guy was powerful and experienced, respected, if not feared, and he was undoubtedly their leader. As such, this was the guy that Angel focused his attention on.

As he approached, the man pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket and brought it to his mouth, lighting it. He took a long breath and came to a stop, pinning Angel with his gaze. The woman, having composed herself and retrieved her pistols, came to his side, rolling her eyes as he exhaled a cloud of smoke in her direction.

"Did they hurt you, Jane?" the man asked her, never taking his eyes from Angel's.

Angel thought he could see a brief spark of concern in those eyes as he spoke, but his tone was flat and unfeeling, betraying none of his emotions. Creepy.

The woman shook back her hair as she replied, telling him everything that had happened in a very precise manner. The man seemed satisfied with the report, no disappointment for the failure of the mission showing through that exterior of his.

"We heard a shot", he explained to her, and she nodded, accepting the explanation for the interruption.

The man took one last drag of his cigarette and dropped it to the ground, mashing it into the floor with his boot. Looking around at Wesley and Cordelia in turn, he sighed before bringing his eyes back to rest on Angel. Things did not look good.

"I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this", he said.

To be continued…       


	8. On the count of three

Disclaimer: Absolutely not mine, so please don't sue me. If you do, you'll probably only end up with my pet rabbit, a half eaten cheese sandwich and a collection of James Bond videos. Honestly, it's not worth it, and I love that little bunny!

Feedback: Don't make me beg. I'll be your friend forever and ever. And hello to the new peeps, welcome to the dark and twisted world that is my brain. 

Numfar, do the dance of shame! It's been about a week since my last update, * goes red with guilt *, but I am working very hard. Uni starts soon, so I hope you understand. I'd like dedicate this chapter to all you poor people out there who had to start school or work at the beginning of the month. You have my pity.

CHAPTER 8.

Angel couldn't believe what he was hearing. Even after everything this Jane woman had just told him of the encounter, the man still considered them all evil. Surely the fact that the woman was still alive and unharmed was proof enough that that wasn't the case. Apparently not.

He'd watched as the others were tied, hands and feet, and led away by the man's orders. 

"Don't kill them yet, we may still need them alive", the man had said, infuriating Angel even further. He had taken the chance to struggle and break free of the cuffs that pathetically tried to hold him now that his friends were out of harms way, but he had underestimated his opponents. They had come prepared for a battle with a vampire; they knew what he was.

Crosses and holy water forced him to the ground and heavy-duty chains were produced, binding his wrists and ankles together in shackles. Not for the first time that evening, he had wanted to demand 'who are you people!?' at the top of his lungs, but he didn't get the chance. A hoard of men stepped up to beat him savagely, kicking him as he was down and pummelling him with their fists.

Through the pain and the cacophony of blows and grunts he could make out the elder's voice, resonating above the din like a light in the dark. 

"Trevor, Jones", he said, "assemble teams and search the hotel. I want the target found, _now_. It won't have gotten far. And station someone by the door. If the prisoners try anything I want to be notified immediately. Leave a couple of your best for the interrogation."

Angel knew what he was referring to, and he knew it wouldn't be good. His tormentors left off for a moment, and through the tears of pain, Angel could see the man's face hovering over him.

"I never like to have to take human life, no matter how unworthy, but you realise you leave me little choice. It is unfortunate, but in the course of duty, it is important to maintain secrecy. If you had left your little human friends out of this, or let young Jane go without a fight, you probably wouldn't be in this mess now. So you see, you brought it on yourself. It was never our intention to get this involved. However, as it is, you will all have to die, if only to protect all the lives you see here."

The man sighed and leant back, rubbing his forehead wearily. He looked as though he had seen far to much death in his time, and Angel believed that he truly was sorry to be doing this. That did not help Angel's situation, though. Time to bring out the trump card.

"Look, you don't understand", he spluttered, spitting blood and grimacing. "It's not what you think. I have a soul. We're not evil, or in a cult. We run a detective agency…we help people!"

The man smiled ruefully and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but you are clearly the one who doesn't understand if you think I would fall for that. Though I have to say, I've heard a lot from your kind in my time, but this one has to be a first. Detective agency you say, in an abandoned hotel? So where's your office, your clients? And your license?"

"Well, we…um…"

"As I thought. We've seen the books you have on the occult. Don't try to pretend you have nothing to do with it. And you, with a soul?  I've never heard such drivel."

"Do you really think a vampire would have human friends if he didn't have one?" Angel asked, getting onto firmer ground now. "It wouldn't matter to me if they died, and yet I took a bullet to protect them! Ask her, she was there!"

Angel pointed as best he could with the only finger he possessed that didn't feel broken. 'Jane', if that was her name, had the good grace to at least look doubtful.

"Tell him", Angel pleaded, "tell him how I didn't kill you. I didn't even hurt you! I know what it is you came for, but you have to believe me when I say that we didn't know anything about it, and we still don't. The creature found _us_, not the other way around. We were trying to find out where it came from and what it was. The books are one the desk, take a look for yourselves."

The crowd that had now gathered around him paused for a second, exchanging glances and holding breaths. The man considered everything Angel had just said, and he looked at him hopefully, praying that it would enough to save them. The man stood and turned away, and Angel's undead heart sank.

"A clever trick, vampire, but it won't stop us from doing what must be done. I should expect that you knew we were coming and put on the act for our benefit. Well, it won't save you. Once you tell us what we want to know, you will be released from your suffering, but until then…"

He nodded at the men hovering like hungry wolves over him, and they began with renewed enthusiasm to finish what they had started. Groaning through clenched teeth, Angel succumbed to despair for the briefest of moments, and wondered if any of them would get out of this alive.

                                                *            *            *

Cordelia fidgeted, nervous and uncomfortable in the ominous darkness of the basement. Her wrists burned and itched, bound together tightly with what must have been the most frayed and moth eaten bit of rope in existence as a cruel punishment for her skin. Any attempt to move or strain against the knots rubbed more fire up her arm and threatened to bite deeper, so she had quickly learnt not to bother trying. This would take a different approach.

Luckily for her, she had made the wisest fashion decision of her life this morning, wearing long pants with her heels that mercifully spared her ankles from the same rough treatment. She was thankful for small favours, especially considering the current situation.

Having adjusted to the enforced darkness, she could make out the others lying not so far from her along the wall. Gunn was still out, having had a reminder of the head injury he had received much earlier on in the day, and he was slumped on his side, looking much the worse for wear. A little further along was Wesley, tied to a pipe as an extra precaution, ensuring that he couldn't escape.

It was too dim for Cordelia to make out his expression, but she could hear his ragged breaths, and guessed that he was just as anxious as she was, although for what particular reason, she could only guess. No one had a better excuse than her at the moment, in her opinion. 

The kids were back. On the opposite side of the room, seated in a amongst the various boxes and crates that no doubt contained the odd weapon or two but that were still tantalisingly out of reach, the children had congregated, choosing this very moment, of all times, to make a reappearance. They stared at her coldly, their faces only too clear despite the gloom. They made no move for her, but just stared, unsympathetic of her own troubles. 

The little black boy and girl huddled together, squeezed between two stacks of chairs, protected from the world in their own private hiding place. To the left of them, the kid with glasses hugged his knees and rocked himself, silent tears streaming down his face as his eyes pleaded with her for help she couldn't give. Shuffled into a corner, his eyes wide with fear, it was clear that he didn't like the dark. Finally, with his back to the other children in a display of isolation, the boy with the black eye blooming on his face sat on a box of his own, swinging his legs about in a random rhythm over the side. His head turned on his shoulder, he glared at Cordelia with a scowl, dismissing any kindness she might have for him to protect himself from the inevitable pain that came after.

All she could do was lie there and watch, feeling the gazes pierce into her skin, sending prickly chills along her body. She hated this; it frightened her and broke her heart at the same time. She needed to make it stop. 

Blinking hard and shaking her head in an attempt to drive the images from her mind, she averted her gaze once again and concentrated back on her friends and the problem at hand. She would be of no use to any one if she started to fall apart, and she was the only one who wasn't tied to the wall or conscious enough to move. Feigning a fainting fit was always a good way of ensuring that the big burly men forgot their wariness and dismissed her as a threat, leaving her far less secure as her inferiority dictated. Stupid morons. Gunn's struggling had earned him another bash on the head, as well as an extra length of rope for poor Wes. They obviously weren't too keen to let them two break free and come after them any time soon. 

She looked back at Wesley, hoping to catch his notice but too afraid of attracting unwanted attention by voicing anything more than a whisper. There were no guards left in the room with them at the moment, but the doorway up the little staircase was not that far away, and she doubted if that too had been left unmanned. Any indication of what she was up to down here could be heard through the door and provoke a stream of annoyed gunmen to appear, and that would certainly put a damper on her plan. 

Unfortunately for her, Wesley was not paying attention, but in fact had his eyes squeezed tightly shut. For a second, Cordelia wondered if he was in pain. She had to get closer as quietly as she could, which was proving to be easier said than done. Giving up on the prospect of maintaining any shred of dignity she had left, she ceased with the wriggling and the shuffling and simply rolled over herself, taking half of the dust on the floor with her. 

She carefully avoided Gunn's legs and, negotiating her way around an assortment of regular basement debris, came to a stop at Wesley's side, pointlessly spluttering in a failed attempt to dislodge the generous layer of grime and ick that had so thoughtfully applied itself to her face. The guys had better appreciate _this_ sacrifice. 

All thoughts of the condition of her hair were banished as fast as they had occurred once she had sat up, leaning on the wall next to Wesley. He was trembling. He controlled his too fast, shallow breaths as she glanced over her shoulder, confirming that the children were still there, still watching her intently. She swallowed hard and looked back, and Wesley gave her a weak smile.

"Are you aright?" Cordelia whispered, forgetting to brag about her achievement when it came to fooling the guards. Wesley just looked pleased to find that he wasn't alone after all.

"Wesley?" she asked when he didn't reply.

He closed his eyes and turned away as he nodded. "Sorry, I just…don't like it down here."

Cordelia felt her cheeks burn at the statement, and was actually thankful that the shadows were hiding her anger from view. A hundred things ran through her brain as she searched for the right thing to say, but she realised with regret that now was not the time for a righteous outburst against the wrongness of the world. She sucked it up and forced her eyes dry, using her inner rage to chase away the all reminders of the ghostly children distracting her from the task. There would be time for that later.

"Don't worry", she said softly instead, "we're going to get out of here now. I need your help."

Inching round and putting her back to him, Cordelia moved her delicate wrists as carefully as she could, keeping in mind that she couldn't exactly see what she was doing behind her. 

"Wesley, shift round a bit", she instructed, finally managing to make her hands and his to meet where they were tied behind their backs. "You may not be able to undo your own knots, but you might be able to do mine. Give it a try."

"I can't", he said with a sigh after a pause, "they're too tight. I can't feel my fingers."

He was right, his hands felt cold to the touch, and they were shaking. The bonds were probably cutting off blood supply. Cordelia winced involuntarily at the thought, and then changed her plan of action. Flexing her own fingers to get a bit of dexterity back, she fumbled around with knots she could find, trying to loosen them. It was proving to be more difficult than she thought.

She'd seen enough of those weird survival type programmes at home (thank you very much, none existent social life), but only because Dennis liked to watch them, of course, and she knew that the colder you get, the harder it is to do the simplest things with your fingers. Like how people had survived miles of trudging along in blistering blizzards until they came to the relative safe haven of a cabin, only to die from the cold because they broke all the matches when trying to light a fire. And how it only takes a couple of seconds to open a flare to summon help, but after being in the water out at sea for a few minutes, that time can be increased a hundred fold.

These thoughts didn't exactly do wonders for her morale, but she stubbornly refused to let her heart sink any further. Okay, so this could take forever to do, but she was going to try, dammit.

Something warm and wet on her hands made her stop what she was doing, and she shuffled round abruptly to see for herself. 

"Oh my God Wesley, you're bleeding!" she half hissed, taking in the angry abrasions all along his wrists where his skin had rubbed raw. "When it starts to hurt that much you stop struggling, dumbass! What's the matter with you?"

She gave him an angry glare and he looked away, abashed. She caught herself too late and shut her eyes in embarrassment. Mentally kicking herself, she bit her tongue, realising what she had said. She really needed to work on the thinking-before-she-opened-her-big-fat-mouth thing.

Cordelia's apology died on her lips when she was interrupted by a scraping sound, echoing into the dark space with a sudden * _klunk_ *. A pause, then renewed scraping, getting steadily louder as the source of the noise drew near. She felt Wesley hold his breath beside her, listening for the direction of the sound, and she did likewise, relieved that she wasn't hearing things again. 

Her eyes were drawn to the small vent in the wall above her when it became apparent that it was responsible. She was at the wrong angle to be able to see through the slats on the covering, and the suspense became almost unbearable when the scraping stopped just inches from the opening.

Nothing happened, and she and Wesley looked at each other, sharing the confusion. Their eyes snapped back when something pounded on the plastic guard from the inside, making it rattle on its fixings. A couple more blows was all it took to send it tumbling to the floor with a cringingly loud clatter, forcing Cordelia to risk a brief glance at the door, although it kindly remained shut.

Two little white paws emerged from the hole, closely followed by a stubby tail and a fluffy butt. Tiny toes scrambled for purchase on the smooth concrete as the creature lowered itself down with its forelegs securely gripping the ledge and, once at arms length, it took the opportunity to turn its head and chirp at the onlookers.

Cordelia couldn't suppress the pleased smile that broke out on her face at the sight, and Wesley released his breath with relief, some hope of escape returning at last. The little animal dropped down from the ledge, its fall cushioned by Gunn's slumped body. It sniffed worriedly at the fallen human, pawing at his bloodied face. When it got no response, it looked up for Cordelia's attention as if to alert her of the fact that Gunn needed help. Refraining from rolling her eyes, she summoned up her best friendly face and found the silly baby voice that she usually reserved for cute dogs or annoying Wesley.

"Come on, over here little guy! That's it, come help out your friend Cordy!"

The voice didn't sound right as a whispered husk, but it seemed to have the right effect. The creature slowly shuffled towards her, taking its time to cross what Cordelia considered to be a relatively short distance, even for its short legs. It went straight by her, hopping on to Wesley's lap.

"Yeah, okay, or you could just go straight to your favourite person and leave me here on my own, stupid creature." Despite her sarcasm, to which the creature seemed blissfully oblivious, Cordelia looked on with concern.

"What's wrong with it?" she asked Wesley, noticing its struggle to walk. "It looks exhausted."

"I don't know", he answered quietly, watching the little thing as it checked him over and sniffed around his shirt. 

'We need a little help here', Cordelia thought to herself, hoping that if she waited long enough, the creature would eventually catch on and be of some use. She let it finish its inspection in silence, trying to contain her excitement when it finally got around to looking around their backs and found the ropes binding their hands.

Ignoring Cordelia completely, it became agitated when it saw the blood on Wesley's hands, flattening its ears and growling like a cornered cat. It pulled at the ropes vigorously, only stopping when Wesley hissed in pain. Looking at Cordelia for help she couldn't give, it resolved to fix the problem itself, bring down its head and baring its teeth. It bit down hard and started nibbling away, pulling and tearing at the thick bonds like a kid tucking into a chicken drumstick.   

Stringy buts of frayed twine came away as the creature gnawed, becoming more desperate the longer it took. Its little paws clutched tightly at the knot in concentration, and with one final tug, the whole lot came away, disintegrating into a pile of fibres on the floor. It spat the remaining bits out of its mouth as Wesley slowly pulled his arms out front and rubbed his useless hands on his shirt, trying to warm them up. 

"Okay, my turn now", Cordelia whispered, trying to encourage the creature to pay her some attention. Instead, it continued to ignore her, focusing on stamping the evil bits of rope into the ground to make sure they were dead.

"Hey! Creature!" she hissed, waving her arms up and down. Still no response.

"I'm sorry, Cordelia", Wesley said, "I can't get my hands to do anything." 

He stared at the offending appendages with annoyance, having failed to even pull the ropes off of his feet. His fingers had gone blue with the cold and they tingled ferociously, making it painful to move them whilst the blood returned. The release of the pressure the ropes exerted made him a little light-headed as his circulation rushed back, and the resulting dizziness made him reluctant to get to his feet whilst they were still tied. Instead, he sat where he was and fought it off, closing his eyes and tucking his hands under each arm, ignoring the slow trickle of blood staining his shirt.

Cordelia was no better off, and she was loath to spend too much more time down here waiting for Wesley's help. She tried for the creature again, it having left the rope for dead and coming once again to check on its bleeding friend. Cordelia was getting frustrated now. 

"HEY!" she grunted as discretely as she could manage. What was it that woman had said? Oh yeah, "_Narchie_, get your furry ass over here!"

The creature spun, narrowing its eyes at her and cocking its head. She smiled and nodded, encouraging it to approach. After a hesitation, it came to her side, finally noticing the condition of her own wrists. Without another thought, it got to work attacking the bonds, breaking her free and then returning to Wesley's side. 

"Thank God for that", Cordelia mumbled under her breath, reaching down to take care of her ankles. It didn't take long to undo the knot there, or on Wesley's own legs, and she immediately turned to Gunn, sparing a brief glance to the other side of the room. 

The children had gone, granting her a short respite for once. She was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and she silently thanked whatever fates were responsible and put it out of her mind. 

Having untied Gunn and propped him up against the wall, Cordelia was satisfied that he was as well as could be expected, and resigned herself to the fact that they would have to come back for him later whilst they tackled the main problem. If they could find Angel and team up, or maybe persuade those people that they meant no harm…

She sighed. She very much doubted that any of that would work, but she couldn't think of a better idea. Making Gunn comfortable but able to do nothing for his head, Cordelia stood and scanned the room, looking for something that would help. There were bound to be some of Angel's training weapons down here, if only she could find them. They may not do much against superior numbers and firepower, but it was something.

She began rustling around frantically as Wesley hauled himself to his feet, watched over with concern by his furry friend. For some reason, the thought of a Watcher being watched over made him smile slightly, and he considered the possibility that he had lost more blood than he thought.

Cordelia came towards him with that scary glint in her eye that she got from time to time, thrusting a rusty looking sharp thing into his slowly un-numbing hands. This was it, then. Exchanging a silent nod, they turned to the staircase, ready to make their ascent. 

They were both hesitant to reveal themselves, knowing that this could be the most foolish thing they had ever done. The sound of shouts and gunshots confirmed it for them, though, and on the count of three, they burst through the basement door.

To be continued… 


	9. Making like the creature

Disclaimer: You've heard it all before. Check a previous page if you need a pointer.

Feedback: This is for ForeverWes, and all those other people waiting for an update. See, you asked for it, and since you reviewed, you got it. It's been a hectic start to university life, in case you're wondering, so new chapters will be slow, but hopefully much quicker than the last! And as for a name for the creature, I'll let you guys decide. James Bond the second it may be, but I feel it needs a more original title. Review me with your ideas and I'll choose one just for you.

Again, sorry for the wait, and I'm glad you guys like the story so far. Keep reviewing and enjoy! :)

CHAPTER 9.

"Tell us your purpose. Who do you work for? All this will stop if you tell us the truth."

Angel ground his teeth against the pain, refusing them the satisfaction of a scream.

They had moved back onto the holy water now, using a little bit at a time on his skin, burning morbid patterns all over his body. 

He was no novice when it came to pain. As Angelus, he had given more than his fair share of it out to others and had enjoyed every minute of it. He had also experienced the many enlightening types himself, under the tender guidance of his beloved Darla. As much as it sickened him now, he had to admit that it wasn't particularly unpleasant at the time, either. 

Twisted fetishes aside, the current treatment was far from desirable, and it took all of his self-control and calming mechanisms to maintain his composure. At every opportunity, he would insist upon innocence, but he would not be reduced to begging. Apart from the fact that it would get him nowhere, it was imperative to assert some kind of an impression that he was passive. 

Taking the punishment, but not retaliating, could go a long way to convincing these people that he was not like other vampires, and that he was not a threat. It was a long shot, but it was all he had.

"That's enough, get the crosses ready."

The man leant down over Angel's shivering frame, an almost sympathetic pinch to his expression. Angel forced himself to focus on the man's face, realising with no small amount of embarrassment that he had begun breathing heavily, falling into an old habit. He swallowed down the urge and stilled, regaining some measure of control.

"Feeling any more forthcoming, demon?" the man asked, with none of the bitterness or contempt that usually accompanied such a sentence. However much hatred this guy had for Angel's kind, it was clear that he was not comfortable with these methods. He had some compassion, something that led to Angel mentally erasing his previous comparison with the Council from his thoughts. This was different.

Summoning up what little strength he had left, Angel conveyed all the determination he could into his words, struggling to tame the waver in his voice.

"It doesn't matter how long you keep this up, you'll only get the same story. And it's not because of any loyalty I have to a higher dark power, or for some misguided sense of honour. It's because it's the truth, and nothing you can do will change that."

The man's face hardened. 

"Jane!" he called, keeping his eyes fastened to Angel's face. "Have the others brought up from the basement. We'll see if they're any more inclined to talk."

"No!" Angel yelled, desperate to be heard. "Leave them out of this, they don't know anything."

"We'll just see about that", the man replied, standing and turning to his associate when she was still to move from her spot. 

"With all due respect, sir, is that really necessary? I mean, evil as they may be, they're still –"

She stopped when the man shook his head, putting a hand on her shoulder and leading her a short distance away from their captive. Whether it was the man's purpose to allow Angel to hear their conversation or not, Angel couldn't tell, but he listened anyway.

"Sir," the woman continued in a hushed tone, "perhaps he is telling the truth. Why would a vampire protect these people when it is in his best interests to palm off the torture to someone else? And I'm not so sure it's just an act."

"I understand your reasoning, Jane, but consider this. You say he is trying to protect his people, pleading for them to be excused out of concern for their welfare, but I say he is pleading for their absence because he _knows_ that if they are brought out here, they will tell us everything. He is guarding a secret, I am quite sure of it. This whole situation is just too bizarre to suggest anything else."  

Angel inwardly groaned, listening helplessly as some of the men organised themselves to receive the other prisoners. The man returned to stand over him, lighting another cigarette as he looked down, expressionless. 

He was going to say something else, maybe in another attempt to frighten Angel into revealing some information before the others were brought up, but he only got as far as opening his mouth to take a breath.

There was a quiet creak as one of the hotel doors opened, seemingly by itself, and a moment of panicked breathlessness stole all murmurs and bustling sounds from the lobby. Heads turned in the sudden hush and grips on weapons tightened as the source of the interruption was awaited. Angel doubted very much that these guys would appreciate any more spectators. 

The elder man gave some sort of warning signal by way of a jerky motion of his arm, waving his subordinates into readiness. For a second, Angel half fancied that it was just the wind, or maybe an innocent client walking in to find help. They were liable to be disappointed.

But then Angel remembered the set up, and assumed that guards would have been placed outside. Perhaps the opening of a door unannounced was more sinister than first thought, then. He tensed.

A hand clawed its way across the threshold, gripping the first step down to haul an arm and the person it was attached to into the room. Judging by the black attire and armoured appearance, Angel assumed the bloodied man to be a part of the team currently assembled in silent awe around him. The wretched man dragged himself a bit further, gasped, and collapsed, the door falling ajar against his dying body. 

In no way could this be a good thing. 

Fleetingly sparing a thought for the poor man, Angel turned his attention to the reaction of the rest of the group. As if each person in the room had just been stabbed unceremoniously with a drawing pin, the lobby burst into a flurry of organised activity, teams of men falling immediately into efficient groups, weaponry primed and aimed at the doors in a well-planned formation. They were preparing for a siege attack, and they covered themselves like professionals. Army they were not, but they were intimidating, nonetheless.

Something stuck its head around the door over the now dead man's body, sniffing at the blood before it looked up to see the greeting. It didn't live to regret it.

All Angel could think was that it was some kind of demon, because when the soldier boys opened fire, it exploded in a cloud of tar-like blackness, spraying bits of skin and chunks of flesh everywhere. Either it came back to life, or more of its kind followed blindly into the same danger, as the firing continued, punctuated after each spray of bullets by the clicking of reloaded clips. 

The scene seemed very surreal to Angel, bullets whistling and cracking over him in a kind of dazed slow motion, amidst shouts of orders that he could no longer decipher. The realisation of just how vulnerable and exposed he was, tied helplessly in the middle of the floor, hit him like a brick that had ricochet from a speeding train. All his supervisors had run for cover and joined the battle, leaving him alone and forgotten in the noise. 

There was nothing for it. He had no choice but to use the opportunity to roll to relative safety, even if it meant subjecting his already broken body to more unnecessary exertion, and risking another good beating afterwards when he was found out…if there was an afterwards, of course. Right now, the risk seemed worth taking, and incurring the wrath of his captors was the least of his worries. 

Making like the creature in the absence of any other choice, Angel headed for the shelter of the rows of chairs, his chains clanking on the floor in his wake.

                                                *            *            *

Cordelia and Wesley leapt into a veritable war of noise, people shouting over the gunfire as they ran whilst the sounds of fighting jostled for superiority. Demonic battle cries added to the mix, shattering glass and door ramming becoming of little concern when the reasons for the sounds became apparent. 

The hotel was being assaulted from all sides by what looked to be the very same breed of demon responsible for digging the nest that Angel Investigations had so professionally managed to clean out under the industrial estate. It seemed like too much of a coincidence for Wesley to dismiss, and, considering the phone call earlier this evening, he imagined the incident to be connected in some abstract way to the current situation. 

Regardless of what any of this could mean, action was needed, and fast. Groups of the lumbering beasts were pouring into the lobby through every available entrance, their sheer numbers more than making up for their lack of fighting skills. They were systematically targeting small groups of resistance at a time and overpowering them, tearing their victims to pieces.

"I don't understand!" Cordelia announced from Wesley's side, dodging to the side when one incapacitated man nearly tumbled into her. Straining to be heard above the din, the change in volume from whisper to shout was surprisingly welcome after the pressing near-silence of the basement. 

"Aren't these guys with you?" she asked the unconscious man when he crumpled beside her. "I don't believe this. Can today get any worse?"

"I wouldn't tempt fate, if I were you", Wesley urged her as they ran for the cover of an overturned table. 

One of the gunmen nearest them noticed their apparent free-roaming state and turned a confused head in their direction.

"Don't even think about it!" Cordelia hissed. "Eyes front, buster."

The man grudgingly complied, taking aim and felling a snarling demon that threatened to make the guy more familiar with his insides.

"We have to find Angel", Wesley said, eyes scanning the room. "Maybe we can get him and sneak out somehow. As much as I hate to see a good place get trashed, I think it might be best just to cut our losses and get out of here. Leave them to it and then come back and clean up the mess later."

"Um, could be a slight problem with that plan", Cordelia pointed out, inclining her head sharply.

Wesley followed Cordelia's line of sight across to the other side of the room to see an Angel shaped heap of torn up clothing and shackles huddled under some furniture. That wouldn't have been a problem in itself, except that getting over there meant crossing the modern day equivalent of World War I stale-mate trenches, or at least, the no mans land in between. As desperate as he was, Wesley didn't much feel up to braving an exchange of fire of this proportion and still hope to be intact on the other side.

"Oh, I see", he said instead, searching around in his head for plan B.

Cordelia frowned. There was a way out, back the way they had come and through the entrance to the sewers in the basement. They could get Gunn, sneak out, and not have to go anywhere near the trigger-happy Die Hard wannabes and their oozing buddies. 

Except, she wasn't leaving without Angel.

By the look on Wesley's face, he was thinking the same thing too. For what it was worth, she felt relieved by that fact, knowing that she was in no mood to deal with any 'sacrifice for the sake of the group' mentality right now. She'd have to thank him later.

"Let's try and get round the side", Cordelia suggested, motioning towards the office and hopefully the various pieces of metal cutting equipment that it held.

Wesley nodded and followed her as she scooted along the wall, ducking and crouching as seemed appropriate at the time. He paused only briefly to glance over his shoulder for the whereabouts of the creature, but finding nothing, he pushed his concerns to the back of his mind. There would time to worry about that soon enough.

'Okay, we're in. Now what?' ran the little movie commentary in the back of Cordelia's head as she squatted down behind the desk. Fortunately, she had her own answers, and she began rummaging round in all the drawers and cupboards she could find, looking for something that could help Angel out. Wesley kept watch, ensuring that they didn't attract the attention of either the big nasties or their captors. 

"Damn!" Cordelia cursed, coming back up empty handed. "I must have left them under the counter."

"What did you need to use the bolt cutters for?" Wesley asked, intrigued.

Cordelia ducked her head but continued to bustle around under the desk.

"That piece of fence always caught on my sleeves when I came in", she replied, as though it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

"Cordelia! You can't just do that to the railings! This is a protected building!"

"Yeah well, whoever's doing the protecting isn't doing such a good job right now, are they? Now come on, we have to find them. And you can have the off-cut back if you're really that bothered about it."

Wesley groaned to himself as he prepared to follow, then realised that a more important point was being overlooked.

"You know, Cordelia, when I go on at you to put things away in the right place when you're finished with them, I have good reason. I can't help but think that this might be one of those times when it pays to be neat and organised." 

"If you dare finish that sentence off with 'that'll teach you a lesson', or 'serves you right', I'll use the cutters on a part of your anatomy in the very near future, which I'm sure Angel won't appreciate. I know where the stupid things are, don't I? Now stop making such a fuss and help me."

Shrugging, Wesley resisted the urge to say 'well you said it', and leaned round to look over her shoulder and through the second doorway to the counter. Not only was the equipment they were looking for clearly visible, sitting uselessly on a shelf out of reach, but the intruder woman and the man responsible for all this had taken up their places behind them, using the counter as a makeshift shield. Not ideal, considering.

"Damn!" Cordelia said again, making her feelings on the matter perfectly clear.

"Quite. Any more ideas?"

Perhaps one of the demons had gotten inspiration of it's own, or had simply become lost, but a great black creature ambled into the office at that moment, scaring the life out of its two inhabitants. Executing a dead-ringer of a whack-the-mole impression, they both bobbed back down again, holding their breath in fear of discovery. Their current boxed in status did not bode well if battle was to become necessary.

Luckily for them, however, the beast seemed more intent on the source of the loud banging noise emanating from behind the counter, and it confidently stormed towards under the false pretence that it was invincible. 

Unaware of the danger, the man and woman edged further towards the end of the counter, peering round into the lobby and gaining ground on the enemy.

"Right", Wesley announced, hefting his rather insignificant and rusty weapon before him as he rose. 

He followed the demon out, ready to finish off at least one of the brutes before this was over.

"Invade _our _hotel, will you?" he spat, bringing down an arc on the demons head.

The thing snarled and lashed out clumsily, forcing Wes to dance back out of reach. The sound alerted the crouching woman and she stood and turned, facing the threat without being prepared. Her eyes widened as the demon growled again, lunging towards her as the nearest target. She tried to bring up her gun for defence, but she would have been too late.

Wesley threw himself at the woman's legs, tackling her to the ground just in time to avoid what would have been a rather unsightly decapitation wound to the neck. The demon swayed forward, its face the very picture of irritation, right before Cordelia's sword gave it something else to grimace about.

It fell down dead at her feet, and she sneered at it in disgust, wiping the sticky hair from her forehead. 

"Never turn your back _me_", she said with a smile, directing her gaze downwards to indicate her apparent freedom for the benefit of the other woman. She in question simply stared back bewilderedly as Wesley hastily extracted himself from the pile.

"What the devil is going on here?" came a deep voice as the man rushed back to the woman's side.

"I'm alright, father", the woman answered as she was helped up, her eyes never leaving the pair in front of her.

"We haven't got time for this", the man informed as he shot suspicious glances at Cordelia and Wesley in turn. "The others need our help."

A grateful smile from the woman and the fact that the man left them alone to their own devices the nearest they got to a thank you, Wes and Cordy were ignored once again as all the others got on with driving the enemy forces back out of the doors. They were making good progress now as the bodies piled up, and each step they gained made more safe space for the ex-captives to work.

Grabbing the cutters and sprinting across the battle field, they quickly set about the task of rolling away the debris and casting aside the broken chairs that had accumulated over Angel's body. His back finally exposed, the vampire gave a weary moan to indicate his discomfort. 

"Angel! Oh my God… we're getting you out", Cordelia babbled as she shifted more junk. "How are you…I mean, what can we…are you…?"

"Ow, ow and ow. I think that just about covers it", Angel wheezed, screwing up his face. "Oh no, wait. Ow. And then some."

"Angel, don't talk", Wesley ordered, taking in the injuries to Angel's chest. He gingerly pulled him out from under the row of chairs, and Cordelia happily took up the task of cutting away the chains.

"How could they do this?" she ranted angrily. "Just wait till I find out who did this to you. There's gonna be hell to pay…how dare they…coming into other peoples homes…had no right…beating up innocent guys…stupid guns…with their big army…just wait…"

The words became lost in his head as Angel floated around on a hazy sea, clinging desperately to his tenuous raft of consciousness. He could feel himself being cut loose and rolled over onto his back. Strong arms lifted him up to lean back against something hard. He grimaced with pain when someone pressed for his wounds and held cloth against already semi-healed bleeding. A keen sense of hunger became apparent as he thought about his injured and healing weakness, so he stopped thinking about it. Instead he listened to Wesley when he told him he would be all right and took comfort in the fact that he was being looked after now. But he would not sleep. Not yet.

"He looks really bad", Cordelia worried, stating the obvious despite herself.

"I know", Wesley said in a way that he hoped sounded reassuring. "He is a vampire, though. Rapid healing, and all that. He'll be just fine with a little blood, won't you Angel?"

"Yes, blood please", Angel replied, sounding so far away that Wesley wondered if he had even heard anything that had just been said.

Angel closed his eyes and leant back against the sofa, and Wesley frowned and pressed harder against the bleeding. It was only a trickle compared to the flood that would spurt from such wounds with a pulse, but it was worrying all the same. What with his healing working over time, Angel would need something to eat to keep up his stamina. Unfortunately, he doubted if their current guests would pass over a bag of blood if they were asked politely.

Wesley tied off the wound with a rag of Angel's own torn shirt in time hear a voice behind him.

"Why would you tend to a demon like him when he could so easily turn on you all?"

Standing and turning, Wesley came face to face once again with the elder man, the woman at his side. The lobby had been cleared of demons now, or live ones at least, and distant gunfire told of the elimination of stragglers beyond the entrance doors.

He and Cordelia pressed their sides together, putting themselves between their fallen friend and his tormentors in protective defiance.

"Just what are we going to do with you?" the man asked, shaking his head and sighing.

To be continued…   


	10. Spill

Disclaimer: I bow to the geniuses that make up the _Angel _team and shudder at the thought of claiming that even one ounce of this creative wonder of an idea was down to me. Okay, maybe not so much shudder as tremble with delight at the thought it could even be possible…uh…what? Oh yeah, back to the real world.

Feedback: I know…I don't deserve it. I've been a baaad little fic writer, leaving my story unfinished like that for so long. I think I'll run away and hide now, but not before dedicating this long awaited chapter to the lovely Eloise for reminding me what a horrible person I've been for letting you guys down. And to think I used to curse the stories I had read and liked but never known the ending to. Bad author, bad! 

CHAPTER 10.

Gunn rubbed his head and hissed. Then he rubbed his head again. The question now was whether or not he dared to open his eyes. He guessed it was something he had no choice but to do, so he braced himself for either the discovery that he had been rendered completely blind, or to be confronted by a scene that he would probably wish he didn't know about. As it happened, he was pleasantly surprised.

Contrary to expectations, he was not hideously mutilated or covered in blood. The cut on his head was only small, in fact, and the occasional bruises he discovered were not as bad as all that. He'd live. Neither was he surrounded by evil mercenaries awaiting his execution, nor the lifeless bodies of his friends. He was simply on the floor in the basement, alone, safe and relatively unharmed. He wasn't even tied up.  

There was, however, evidence to suggest that he had been in the recent past, although how long he had been down here, it was hard to tell. Squirming and squinting his eyes in protest at the pounding headache that was so thoughtfully reminding him of his situation, he managed to prop himself upright against the cold wall and scan his surroundings.

Bits of cut rope lay around him, and one of the air vent grates had fallen off, but other than that, it was too dark to see details. He rubbed his head. Yep. Still hurt.

Would calling out be a stupid thing to do? You know, like they always did in some scary ass movie when it was obvious the big nasty was waiting for them in the dark, and shouting out for help was the last thing they should do? Not that he couldn't handle any big nasty that might fancy a go at him. It was just that, in his current state, taking on big nasties with guns was maybe a little ambitious. Best to keep quiet, then.

"I guess it's all up to me", he said to no one in particular, hauling himself up and groaning for effect. Since no one responded, he assumed neither friend nor foe to be within hearing distance. Be thankful for small favours. Or should that be, where the hell is everybody?

Peering ahead into the shadows, his maladjusted eyes and swimming vision could just make out the thin slit of light leaking in from under the basement door. Doubting, perhaps naively or over-confidently, that the others would have just left him here to make their own escape through the sewers, Gunn decided this to be his only route if he had any hope of finding out what had happened.

The fact that he was alone still confused him, though, especially considering his apparent free-to-roam state. As far as he knew, the door had no lock to it, and yet there was no guard. Plus, he could only assume that someone had managed to untie him, yet he was still down here with no one to thank. Whether said liberator had been foiled in their plan or had gone off to do something else, he could only guess. Seemed kinda dumb though, either way. Sigh.

Ordering his annoyingly independent feet to co-operate, he scrambled his way round the wall. Even more bits of frayed twine littered the floor where he walked, hinting at evidence it was too dark to see. Something strange was going on here.

Perhaps by some sense he was only subconsciously aware of, he felt the need to take a glance to his right before he began his ascent of the staircase. He'd learnt to pay attention to his instincts so, having no other sensible reason to do so, he paused to check.

Sure enough, two reflective eyes shone out at him from beside a wooden storage box, watching secretively from the shadows. 

Instantly recognisable and lately of common occurrence, the sight did not spook Gunn as it might have done only a few days ago. He knew far too well that the demonic hell spawn most readily known as 'the rat' frequented the minute alleyways created by stacked crates on a regular basis, and he was always on the lookout for them. But these eyes belonged to a different type of rodent, and he approached with much less distaste.

"Hey there little guy, what you doin'?" 

The creature held its half lidded gaze, issuing a soft squeak in recognition. With a slight shiver, it unfurled its little arms from where it had sat curled and held them out to Gunn, a sorrowful expression on its face.

Gunn frowned, but couldn't resist such a plea. Scooping it up from its damp hiding place he held it tight, carrying it with him as he went. He'd seen Wes do this before, and the creature always seemed happy to cling on for itself, using his shoulders as a vantage point. This time, though, it had no such intention, and Gunn had to cradle it carefully so that it didn't fall down. He hoped he wouldn't need to use his arms any time soon, or else his opponent would get an easy ride.

Putting an ear to the door, Gunn listened, waiting for a clue to reveal itself.

"Hey, Radar Ears. You hear anything?"

The creature looked at him half-heartedly, then closed its eyes and nuzzled into his chest. 

"I tell you what, you just go to sleep, and I'll watch our backs. How does that sound?"

The creature ignored him, and Gunn shrugged. 

"What's a brother got to do to get some answers around here?"

Moving swiftly on, Gunn readied himself to push the door open, shifting the creature to the other arm and putting his palm against the wood. Counting to three in his head and taking a breath on the last, he slipped through, pressing his back to the opposite wall in the lobby.

So far so good. He could hear a conversation going on in the lobby, and his area being in shadow, he risked a look round into the main of the room. 

On the far side, a bunch of the gunmen were crowding round, standing to attention. Each possible exit was also blocked, guarded by at least two men keeping a wary eye on the goings on outside. They didn't look too concerned about keeping people in, but more about defending against something that was already out. And was he hearing things, or were those sirens wailing in the distance?

What was weirder was the state that the lobby was in. Broken glass and smears of God knew what painted the floor in some sick mosaic, finished off with a touch or two of severed demon limb and dead body.

Like ants swarming over a kill, some of the men were scurrying backwards and forwards, ferrying away their wounded and bagging up the enemy. Some were even on their hands and knees, scrubbing away at the stains. And they weren't just using some brand name bleach either. Whatever stuff it was, it was doing a damn good job at fizzing, bubbling and puffing pretty wisps of smoke out like there was no tomorrow. Gunn didn't need to be an alchemist to guess that they were using a little mystic help.

"Damn. I gotta get me some a' that."  

Turning his attention back to the group in the middle, he noticed movement, with some of the men breaking away to help with the clean up. As they cleared, he picked out the backs of the gymnast woman and the boss guy, standing side by side in the middle. 

A couple of the crouching minions rose suddenly, hefting something on their shoulders that looked like…wait a minute, was that Angel? Then a voice that he couldn't mistake rang out above the rest, shouting his name.

"Gunn. We can't go without Gunn. We have to go get him!"

Cordelia tried to wrestle her way through the crowd, only to be restrained by the many arms that snaked out to stop her. She wriggled and cursed, glaring at those who dared to defy her. 

"Don't worry", Gunn heard the big guy say, "He'll be right behind you. You have to go now. It's for your own good."

He couldn't be sure what it was Cordelia said to that, but he had a feeling it wasn't friendly. 

Maybe he should have guessed, but the fact was he didn't realise until the last second, and by then it was too late. With the mention of his name, some of the troops were dispatched to collect him, and immediately began to march his way. His cover was blown. Blame it on the head injury.

With customary shouting, pointing and running, they reached his side in two seconds flat, demanding that he give himself up. Not impressed in the slightest, Gunn decided to push them a bit a see how far he could get.

"Whoa, stand back. I've got a fluffy thingy and I'm not afraid to use it. This little dude's got some serious issues, so you might want to reconsider your distance."

Gunn thrust the creature towards them and they took a step back, a look close to astonishment on their faces. He hadn't seriously expected it to work, but the reaction he was getting made it worth his while.

"Yeah, you'd better get back. This thing's downright _evil _when it gets pissed. It'd whoop your ass before you could call for momma."

The creature shuffled round where it lay and there was a quiet gasp. Then it blinked, yawned, and closed its eyes again.

"Okay, okay, that's enough. Looks like we've found what we came for. You can put the little one down now."

Boss man nudged his underlings aside and confronted Gunn, a stern look in his eye. His order went unheeded, though, and he raised an eyebrow as though he had expected as much. Gunn just stared right back, unmoved. Nobody spoke to him that way. He was his own man.

"Gunn? Gunn please, just do it. We don't have much time. We have to go, now."

Wesley's voice urged him to rethink his attitude, and he obeyed, for the sake of the others. He trusted Wesley's judgement, and considering that he seemed to be missing a big chunk of the script, he guessed maybe it was best to just go along with the plot.

Lowering the creature to the floor with the intention of letting it walk for itself, he was relieved of his burden before its feet even had the chance to touch the marble. Some guy on his left wrapped his arms round the creature and carried it away, quiet dismayed cries the only indication that the creature knew what was happening.

"Now come, we can explain on the way."

Raising a mocking eyebrow at boss man's outstretch arm, Gunn brushed past, joining the others at last. 

"What's that guys problem anyway?" he asked, giving Wesley and Cordelia a rejoining-of-the-group nudge on the arm. 

After a meaningful exchange of glances and a brief smile on Gunn's part, the three allowed themselves to be herded out of the hotel to a queue of waiting people carriers. Angel was loaded into the first vehicle, followed by a hoard of his minders, and the doors were slid shut, the van pulling away without a seconds delay.

"Hey, wait a second! Where are you taking him?" Cordelia demanded, turning to the boss with a venomous glare. 

"We'll catch up. Now hurry, the police will be here any minute."

"Police?" Gunn blurted, "Since when? Oh no, wait. I get it. They're here to arrest your ass."

"Something like that," Wesley replied, understanding Gunn's misinterpretation. "But unless we get moving, we'll all be arrested, for firearms possession, disturbing of the peace, destruction of property, let alone what they concoct to go with the state of the hotel. Need I go on?"

"Hey, don't beat on me, I'm just the guy who missed all the action and got the wrong end of one hell of a big stick. Okay, that came out wrong…"

Bundling into the back of their own waiting van was the easy part, but squeezing together in the uncomfortably small space with a bunch of her least favourite people was something that Cordelia had a hard time dealing with.

Sitting literally nose to nose with people she didn't like was one thing, but anticipating the jostling she was going to get as the van shuddered into life made her desperate to find a distraction. Turning to look the woman in the eye, she began the only conversation she had any interest in participating in.

"So, we've kept up our end of the bargain and told our side of the story, now it's your turn. Spill."

"Some of us are still trying to work out some of the more key parts of the story you know," Gunn interrupted, "starting with what the hell happened to Angel."

"Hmm, let's see. These guys tortured Angel, the hotel was attacked by demons, there was a big gun battle, me and Wesley saved some lives, they agree we're not evil, now we're all on the run from the law. Miss anything? No? Good. Now spill."

"That…makes no sense. But whatever. Can we please get to the who you are part?"

Gunn raised his eyebrows in line with his question, waiting patiently for the answer that he knew would be far fetched. The only sentence that went through his head was 'this had better be good'.

Gunn's pointed stare made the woman shift where she sat, but big boss guy seemed unfazed. Coolly glancing at them each in turn, he waited for the van to begin pulling away before he embarked o his explanation.

"We are the Guardians, appointed by ancient powers and bound to a legacy passed down through the generations. We are the last of a once powerful sect trained for one sole purpose; to protect the Three from the forces of darkness."

"Okay, so enough with the dramatics already," Cordelia scorned, "and what do you mean 'generations'? And who are the Three? Sounds like some kind of Matrix rip off."

"Our numbers dwindle, but there are still those of us left who remember the old ways. Jane and I are of direct descent from the original bloodline of protectors, and those that work with us believe in the prophecies. They remain loyal to the cause, which means, due to its secretive nature; new recruits are few and far between. We go to great lengths to ensure we stay unnoticed, so it doesn't pay to be too liberal when it comes to offering jobs, or letting any information about our group escape to anyone. That's in part why you received such treatment, I'm afraid."

Wesley raised an eyebrow at that, and Cordelia gave a not so discreet snort.

"As for the Three, they are the Knowing Ones, or the _narchie _in our forgotten tongue. The creature you have encountered is the first and most ancient of the Three, though I think you do not perhaps realise the implications."

"Then why don't you enlighten us?" Wesley suggested, bracing himself as the van took a sharp corner too fast. "I for one am sure I've never before come across ay prophecy relating to the…whatever it was you called them."

"You won't have done, because the truth has been kept hidden from well-meaning and bad alike, and we were to guard the secret. You must understand, such strictness is essential to ensure the survival of the Three against the forces that would see them fail. And if they were to fail…may God have mercy on our souls."

The man paused and leant back, letting the magnitude of his words sink in. He looked to Gunn as though he would rather not be saying any of this out loud, especially being as the very subject seemed to be cracking his otherwise unshakable look. This meant a lot to the guy, and Gunn guessed the man believed everything whole-heartedly, and had done all his life.

More swerving and bumping kept everyone quiet for a moment as they were bounced around, ricocheting off each other's shoulders.

The man fished a packet off cigarettes out of his pocket as soon as he could spare a hand.

"Say a word, Jane, and you'll be on cleaning duty for a week."

The woman held up her hands but kept her mouth shut. He lit the cigarette and continued.

"There is a prophecy that predicts the coming of the next major apocalypse, the one to end all ends."

"Huh, don't they all," Wesley mumbled, earning him a dig in the ribs from a transfixed Cordelia's elbow.

"It claims that, in this time, a benevolent force will rise up to serve the interests of mankind and fight for our side, beating back the scourge that will be unleashed on the earth. Without it, the world would undoubtedly be swallowed by darkness, but with it, we have a hope. As such, all evil seeks to destroy this chance at the source; by eliminating the Three."

"We have come to take back the creature," Jane continued, sensing her father's unease. As much as she loved him, he certainly knew how to drag a good story out, and she was eager to quell the confused looks on the faces of the others. "It is not yet time for it to act. It should be returned to its resting place to await the true arrival of the apocalypse."  

There was an awkward silence as the recipients of the tale tried to digest all of the new information. Wesley looked as though he wanted to ask several questions, but he kept quiet for the time being. Gunn was the first to speak.

"So, let me get this straight. Are you saying that the knee-high super-ted is the protestor of mankind, waiting to haul our asses out of trouble? Somehow, that seems a little weird."

"It's not just the one creature," the man countered, managing to find his composure again. "That is simply the first of the Three."

"So you said," Cordelia chipped in.

"They represent our past, present and future, and they possess the power to see into the hearts of people. They see the wrongs of the world before anything else. Only when the pain and suffering of humankind reaches its tumult during the apocalypse, combining then, now and next, will the calling be strong enough to beckon forth the Three. Then they will arise and join together, increasing their power to formidable levels, ready to do battle on our behalf."

"How?" Cordelia demanded in her ever-blunt way, her doubts finally making themselves known. "What will they do?"  
  


"Well, it's unknown for certain, but-"

"So what you mean is, you haven't got a single clue, but you're hoping for the best because some prophecy says it will. You have absolutely no proof, or even the first idea about what might be really going on, is that it?"

Jane tensed, her eyes narrowing as her tone descended a degree or two, making her next words sound like an icy whisper.

"How dare you belittle our cause like that. You have no idea what we sacrifice for the greater good, what my _father_ has sacrificed…"

"Oh, I do. You attack and torture innocent people and tie them up in their own homes. For the greater good. I was there, remember? Or did you think I had just forgotten and forgiven now that you've deemed us all worthy of your pathetic little inner circle?"

"Cordelia…" Wesley warned.

"Don't you Cordelia me. Someone needs to tell them to open their eyes. You can't just go around doing this! Being all high and mighty just because of some stupid story some misguided old man made up-"

"You _still _don't get it, do you?!" the man thundered suddenly, making everyone in the van jump in surprise. "Why do you think your hotel was attacked? They weren't after us, they didn't even know we would be there, otherwise they wouldn't have planed such an obviously doomed move. They came for the creature. That nest you cleared out? It wasn't some cosy home. What being today, demonic or not, would want to live in a cave when the whole of Los Angeles is there for the taking? No. It was no coincidence. Stupid as the beasts are, they knew what they were doing, guided by a higher master, perhaps. They dug there on purpose, targeting the burial room that housed the first of the Three, wanting it dead."

"But if you know all this," Wesley ventured, "then why didn't you stop the attack in the first place?"

The man sighed, his mood cooling a little with guilt.

"Long has the whereabouts of those ruins remained lost to us, much to the regret of our ancestors. The chambers of the Second and Third are well guarded, and we have searched for years in the rumoured location not far from here. But whisperings of a demonic plan did not escape our attention. We came to the site shortly after you had left, if what you have told us is true."

"It was," Wesley assured him.

"We assumed the dead to have been slaughtered by their traitorous masters as a reward for their hard work. We tracked you down using some of the more…unorthodox methods, and assumed you responsible for the missing creature. I see now that we were wrong to jump to such conclusions."

"Damn right you were," Cordelia added, still bitter after being shouted at.

"So, what happens now?" Wesley asked, ignoring the staring match that was taking place between Cordelia and Jane. 

The man rubbed his temples and looked down at his crumbling cigarette, twirling it around through his fingers.

"Now, we pray that my men managed to clean up your hotel and get out of there before the police arrived, and then we try to return the creature to its rightful place. I t was disturbed too soon, and it cannot survive long with this much exposure to the suffering of the outside world. Let's just hope that we are not already too late."

To be continued…  


	11. Into the dark

Disclaimer: _Angel_ and all associated characters are the property of their owners. I'm just borrowing them. I make no profit from this.

Author's notes: After two and a half years, I have finally gotten around to picking this up, dusting it off and finishing it. This is all thanks to the prodding of Mysticwolf1, to whom I dedicate this final chapter. I apologise perfusely for my appauling update rate, hideously unbeta-ed chapters and rather abrupt ending. The plans I had for this story are now too moss-covered and crumbly for me to remember. Instead, I humbly offer it up for a sequel to anyone who fancies a go. Hope you enjoyed!

---

The middle of the Nevada desert was the last place Cordelia had expected them to end up, but as she stepped out into the dust, she had to conceed that it was indeed the perfect place.

The starlight shone brightly in defiance of the smothering L.A. pollution it had now escaped. The distant hills were just visible, but apart from the headlights of the still gathering vans, Cordelia could not make out another single speck of artificial light. This place was completely wild. Isolated, desolate and lonely. It was also very cold.

Cordelia shivered and pulled her too thin jacket more securely around her, immediately missing the warmth of the close quaters in the back of the van. Her muscles ached after hours of confined travel, and the fresh air was a welcome difference. A stiff breeze rustled through the crispy foliage of the sparse vegetation and ran cold fingers across her scalp. That was not so welcome.

Gunn and Wesley clambered from their seats after her, blinking in adjustment as they emerged into the open landscape. They too seemed surprised. Its resemblence to the surface of the moon was disconcerting.

Another vehicle pulled up close to them, sending a fine cloud of dirt and grit into the air as it stopped. They moved away as men began to pour out, glad for the chance to stretch their legs.

Cordelia watched as Jane and her father walked out into the night without so much as glance in their direction. They stepped a distance away, apparently discussing the finer details of the operation. Cordelia wasn't interested in what they were saying.

She had been watching Jane closely throughout the journey but had yet to see a sign of anything amiss. She had found herself becoming unaccountably infuriated by the woman's seeming lack of response when the children had once again made their apperance. Schooling her features to blank but clenching her fists at her sides, she'd waited for some indication that Jane had noticed the little legs swinging in and out of view on the front seat, or heard the faint crying in the background. Cordelia could not be sure to whom either belonged, and had focussed instead on Jane's expression. She was certain her theory was correct, and yet nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

"Man, this is getting old," Gunn muttered beside her. He also, she noticed, had his eye on the pair, and clearly disliked being left out of the loop. He rubbed the back of his head absently, and Cordelia felt her irritation ratchet up another notch.

Jane's father, having apparently given his orders, turned and walked off towards a group of his men, leaving Jane to carry out his instructions. Cordelia was surprised to find that she was not the only one feeling put out, and was beaten to a heartfelt speech.

"Excuse me," Wesley called loudly with his slightly scary don't-piss-me-about voice. Jane turned to look at him with a jolt that Cordelia had to admit she also felt. Jane's father ignored him pointedly and did not return, and Cordelia didn't miss the way his expression darkened dangerously. Gunn also took a step out of his way.

Jane approached rather nervously, anxious to prevent a confrontation, and began to placate Wesley with a fast explaination of what was going to happen next. He didn't appear terribly soothed.

"Where is Angel?" he demanded forcefully, interrupting the girl's hurried spiel. Cordelia silently egged him on.

Jane sighed and gave up her attempts, trying not to seem as apologetic as she clearly felt. Being in charge didn't seem to suit her, and Cordelia half suspected that she'd already made several requests to her father that had gone unheard.

"He should be in one of these," she said, gesturing to the steadily lessening stream of vans coming to a stop near them. Any excuses she'd wanted to make were quickly swallowed with one look from Wesley, and she didn't try to stop them as they moved off in search of their friend. Grimacing at their retreating backs and rolling her eyes to the heavens, she followed.

It didn't take long to work out which van Angel was being held in. There was a deep growl, followed by the swift exit of what Cordelia assumed to be medical personnel. One of the men smoothed down his white lab coat with an indignant air and a huff. Angel determinedly hauled himself out of the van, bandages now adorning his torso. He gave the men a threatening look and lowered himself to sit on the tail gate.

"Are you alright, Angel?" Wesley asked, coming to examine the work for himself.

"Peachy," Angel replied tightly, his glare not leaving the men.

"We should take a look at you too," one of them braved, another eyeing up the back of Gunn's head.

"No thank you," Wesley said tersely, and Gunn crossed his arms across his chest.

Jane stepped in and opened her mouth to speak.

"Don't you dare apologise to me," Gunn told her, and she shut her mouth again.

Cordelia let the brief arguement that ensued, hesitantly on the part of the doctors, wash over her cleanly. The feisty little boy and his sister peeked at her around the side of Angel's van, little frowns scrunching their noses. They watched the strange men a little fearfully, flinching back at the wild gesticulations and huddling closer together. The little girl's hand slipped into her brother's and she held on tightly.

Again searching her face, Cordelia found that Jane was only listening to the conversation, an annoyingly oblivious expression on her face. She couldn't wait any longer. She grasped Jane's arm firmly above the elbow and pulled her a short distance away from the others, ignoring her cry of surprise.

"You don't see them, do you?" Cordelia demanded with some force, her aggrivation getting the better of her at last.

Jane pulled her arm away roughly with a scowl that soon became a look of confusion. Cordelia made a strangled noise of frustration and thrust a finger towards the van. "The kids," she hissed in explaination.

Jane gave her a wary look that suggested she thought she was crazy and dangerous, turned slowly to look where indicated, then met Cordelia's eyes again. "No..." she agreed catiously, talking oh-so-slowly and carefully. Making nice with the nut-so. Cordelia wanted to give her a smack.

"I saw the creature bite you," Cordelia elaborated, raising her eyebrows meaningfully. "It bit me too."

Jane frowned at her momentarily, giving her head a little shake. "I don't... What's that got to do with anything? It's not poisonous."

Cordelia felt a sickening sinking feeling twisting her insides. "Well, it poisoned me! I just figured that's what it does."

Jane gave her a long, hard look, their squabble being rapidly forgotten. A thought seemed to occur to her, and her tone became serious.

"Do you know what it is you're seeing?" she asked, and nodded at Cordelia's meaningful silence. "The creature seems to have... transferred... its ability. Somehow. I don't know why. It's not supposed to happen." She glanced back towards the others and Cordelia gave her a sharp nudge to get her attention.

"If you say anything to them I'll --"

"I won't," Jane assured her solemnly.

"How do I make it stop?"

"I'm not sure that you can. I would hope that once the creature is returned to its hibernating state, its effects should wear off. Otherwise..."

"Well, let's go put it back in the ground, then," Cordelia said briskly, pushing past her to rejoin the others. Another man had joined them, apparently to take their details, and was patiently trying to persuade them to co-operate whilst deflecting their insistent questioning.

"Why can't we go into the chamber?" Wesley was asking, although Cordelia suspected his interest was more to do with being difficult than actually wanting to go. The man sighed in a way that suggested he'd already done it a few times, making the effort to look each of them in the eye.

"Because the location is a secret. And I'm sorry, but I just don't have the authority. Please, if you'll just give me a bit more information. We have someone on the Force but we can't fabricate a story if we don't have all the facts..."

Again, Cordelia tuned them out. She looked around to find Angel studying her closely and averted her gaze guiltily. Damn his vampire hearing.

A sharp yelp from across the way got everyone's attention, and they all turned to hear a high-pitched squealing from the same direction. Before the man could protest, Wesley had set off at a run and was soon followed by Cordelia and Gunn.

"I'll just wait here, then!" Angel called after them.

They rounded the corner of a large vehicle to find a group of men surrounding a box, one of which was standing back and cradling his hand. A very agitated creature, screeching for all it was worth, repeatedly rammed its little body against its cage, scrabbling to get out. A couple of the men made unsure soothing noises to try and calm it, the rest looking around at each other in concern.

"What are you doing?" Wesley asked accusingly, pushing those nearest to the side. Hearing his voice, the creature stopped its efforts and wailed at him, its arms outstretched in a desperate plea.

Without a second thought, Wesley plunged forward and wrestled with the release, throwing off the hands at his arms.

"Hey! You can't do that!" one man yelled, but he was ignored.

The men gasped collectively as the creature shot out of the box, clinging to Wesley's neck as though it had been burned. They took a step back as Wesley straightened and he rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, for heaven's sake," he muttered to himself.

The creature whimpered pathetically and buried its face against him. He brought his arms up to hold it in place and stroked it automatically.

"What's going on here!" Jane's father stormed as he marched towards the group, making his men flinch involuntarily. His stony face turned positively thunderous when he caught sight of Wesley, and the trembling creature gave an extra little shudder at his tone.

Cordelia expected Wesley to blanch at that, and wouldn't have thought any less of him. Instead, he turned squarely to face the man, his expression set. Gunn stepped up beside him and Cordelia found herself following suit.

"_I'll_ be taking it down to the chamber," Wesley announced in a low tone, and Cordelia steeled herself for an explosive response.

The man simply looked Wesley in the eye for a moment, and a grim smile pulled unnaturally at his face. "Very well," he said eventually, moving aside to let Wesley pass. Cordelia and Gunn shared a look, both silently agreeing not to get onto Wesley's bad side.

---

Winding cave systems seemed to be the habitation of choice, and Cordelia had begrudgingly admitted that 'The Guardians' had hidden it well. The entrance had been sealed into the rock of a particularly non-descript outcropping, with not so much as a seam visible to the naked eye. After some extended chanting and, bizarrely, spitting, a small door had slid aside to admit them, behind which a small country's army was stationed. The area would remain under constant supervision, with patrols and a hi-tech surveillance system monitoring the outside world. Having insisted on accompanying him, Cordelia, Gunn and Angel had piled in after Wesley, and each eyed the set up with a certain amount of respectful awe. There was no doubt that the creature would be safe here.

The slience became almost oppressive the further and deeper they ventured. The going was slow with only the beams of flashlights to illuminate the way, and it seemed that the many twists and turns were intentional. The place wasn't just a well-hidden fortress. It was also a labyrinth. Cordelia idly fancied that they'd have to negotiate pitfalls and spring traps. She still had her eyes open for them.

Gunn was the first to break the quiet, making Cordelia start.

"So what happens now?" he asked without preamble, dodging around a low hanging rock.

"We return the creature to its place and keep it guarded. Then you go home and never speak of this again. We've left a cover story for the police, so you shouldn't have any trouble." He paused. "It's the least we could do."

Gunn looked hard at the back of Jane's father's head as though doing so would reveal more answers. He snorted. "So, you're not actually going to do anything about the apocolypse you promise us is coming. Just gonna sit around and let us deal with that?"

"Gunn..." Angel warned.

"That is not our purpose," Jane's father returned calmly. "We simply await the rising of The Three. And I can assure you, we have plenty enough to be doing until then."

"Huh. So what about Cordy?"

Cordelia inwardly winced.

"What about her?"

"Cordelia is a Seer," Angel interupted with purpose. "She's been affected by the creature, but I'm sure it'll pass once its gone. Right?"

Cordelia gave him a grateful smile that she hoped he could see and nodded emphatically. "Right."

Wesley turned and frowned at her slightly, and Gunn looked less than convinced, but they didn't push it any further. They turned back to concentrate on their precarious route, and Cordelia squeezed Angel's hand.

---

The chamber itself was not at all as Cordelia had expected it to be. It was not extravagant, plush or covered in runes. There were no melodramatic candles, no archaic painted symbols and no towering statues. Neither was there any computer equipment, light fixtures or armed guards. There was simply a small box set into the wall with what looked like straw lining the inside. It was slightly disappointing.

"Um, this is it?" Wesley asked, unsure.

Jane gave him a look. "You were expecting something else?"

He shrugged and approached the make-shift nest, the others crowding behind to get a closer look.

"Okay," he said to the creature, "Time to go back to sleep."

Taking hold and giving it a gentle tug, Wesley found that it wouldn't let go, but instead chirped and gripped on tighter. He reached for its arms and tried to peel each one off individually. "Come on, you have to let go."

After a few more complaints and some gentle coaxing, it eventually allowed itself to be lifted down and placed in the box, a pitiful look in its eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," Wesley admonished, arranging the straw around it.

Gunn peered at it from over Wesley's shoulder. "Poor thing, looks beat," he said, patting it tentatively on the head. It chirped at him.

"See ya, fur ball," Angel said, and it yawned in return.

Movement in the corner of her eye drew Cordelia's gaze, and she turned from the cluster around the creature to see the children chasing each other through the tunnels. She looked after them in stunned disbelief as they giggled, the little girl skipping happily after her older brother as he held his arms out to her. The boy with the bruise was now healed, and smiled playfully as he jumped out from behind a rock. The other two boys squealed delightedly and ran from him. He took off in pursuit, and they all disappeared into the dark.

"Cordelia?"

She jerked round and wiped the goofy smile from her face, scrubbing quickly at her eyes. "Huh?" she said, aiming for innocent. The guys gave her an indulgent look and motioned silently towards the balled up curl of fur.

She made an 'oh' shape and sighed in relief. They all reflected her smile.

"Time to go home," she whispered.

**END** 2006


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